There Is No End
by Fayalargo Winterwoelfin
Summary: The PrologueEpilogue deals with the events after the HokutoCup. Spoiler warning! Chapter 2: “More than a rival... I need a friend right now.” Not Shonenai and never will be. Part IV is up.
1. Chapter 1

**Spoiler-Warning: **everything

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Hikago

**Summary:** When Hikaru has lost his game at the Hokuto Cup he feels the pain of Sai's loss resurfacing and is troubled by it afresh. Touya notices and fears what Shindou will do, so affected.

What happened before: This story starts at the end of the Hokuto-Cup, a Japan-Korea-China Jr. tournament. It is a troublesome event for Hikaru Shindou due to the Korean first board player, Ko Yong-Ha. In a mistranslated interview he allegedly says that Shusaku Honinbo were a player not worth studying. Hikaru, infuriated by this implicated insult of his mentor Sai, becomes determined to play, and beat, Ko Yongha. Due to his stubbornness the team manager Kurata allows him to be first board in the game against Korea.

* * *

**  
Epilogue of the Hokuto Cup. Part I**

Hikaru.

Accusingly the black stones stared at him from their ordered position in neat seichi squares. Half a moku. By half a moku, he had lost.

_Sai…_ he thought as a flood of tears sprang from his eyes. He felt the reproachful stares of his team mates and of team manager Kurata in his back. He heard the satisfied murmur of the Korean group on the other side of the goban, as they had their opinion of their superior playing being confirmed. He didn't really care that everyone around him, players, organisators and reporters alike, could see his tears of disappointment. He hadn't any strength left to care.

_I lost, Sai! I'm still not strong enough! Not strong enough!_

He barely noticed Ko Yongha leaving, the crowd around him thinning as the sponsor announced the ceremony beginning. After ignoring discussions and whispers around him, it were finally Akira Touya's words that he felt addressed at him.

„Shindou… let's go…" the black haired pro gently said. Hikaru sensed his considerate gaze. He wasn't susceptible for any consoling words, but his rival's familiar presence after this tournament full of foreigners had if not anything else such a soothing influence that at least his bitter tears ebbed off.

_Sai..._ what would he think now? Could he see him? Had he watched his game from some place high above, in heaven? _Sai, where have you gone to?_

Sai… Hikaru's desperate finger clutched the fan in a deathlike grip. In his dream Sai had passed on his fan to him. And he had smiled. _But I don't deserve it!_ Hikaru thought bitterly. _I wasn't able to defend Shusaku's name, I wasn't able to defend your name! Even giving my best, fighting with everything I had, it wasn't enough!_

Touya's low, staid voice interrupted his depressed thoughts. He was waiting for him, when even Yashiro and Kurata were about to leave the room.

"This isn't the end…"

_Touya…_ His rival hid his reproval very well. He knew he should have let Touya play. Touya could have won.

_But how… Sai… how could Touya have fought for you?_

He didn't know how badly Touya was blaming him for this… but could he ever look in his eyes again with his actions, his great words, and his loss, his failing strength? How would it go on? Would he, after losing Sai, lose his only true rival to his stupidity as well?

"There is no end."

Touya's soft voice numbed the raging disappointment and the desperation inside him and Hikaru finally found the strength to stand up and follow his rival out of the room.

There was no end…

Still, in the tumult of his feelings the pain of Sai's loss had resurfaced afresh.

* * *

After the frustrating result had been announced and the spectators left the public discussion room, Yoshitaka Waya stood up and told his friends that he was going home.

"But the awards ceremony is about to start!" Toshinori Honda protested.

"I'm going back to my apartment to examine the Japan vs. Korea games," he answered, already facing the exit.

"I'm going too," Shinichiro Isumi added as he stood up, "What about you?"

Kosuke Ochi got up, bearing a determined countenance. "I'm not interested in the ceremony."

"Hn." Honda added in confirmation.

Resolutely the four companions strode out of the room.

* * *

At the first possibility he withdrew from the ceremony, leaving his team-mates to deal with the reporters and their questions. He couldn't bear being reprimanded for his loss, and he certainly couldn't bear to be complimented for a good game (as Kurata-san had tried). He knew that he had failed.

At the way out of the hotel he met Suyon Hon and the young Korean Go pro finally cleared up the knotty situation about Ko Yong-Ha's words. Hikaru listened to him; but his thoughts straying far he only stored the words in his mind in order to deal with them later.

* * *

Shindou had gone! The whole time on, from when they left the game room, during the whole ceremony, Shindou had always stood close beside him. With gritted teeth Akira forced himself to be smiling politely when the reporter who had been bothering him for the last fifteen minutes continued pestering him with more endless, useless questions. And then there were the companions of the different teams, wanting a word with him, spectators coming to greet him, some with a compliment on his wins, some commenting on the loss of Japan in the tournament,… In short, it was him who got talked in several languages about the games, his team, himself, his opinion on the greatness of the foreign players and so on and so forth. Yashiro always seemed to become suspiciously invisible as soon as someone neared, Shindou who had caused the most commotion during the last two days, barely commented to anything, hiding behind Akira, who was left to do the polite talking. Where had Shindou gone to? Akira wanted, no, he _needed_ to talk to him. He would have gone to his room, Akira decided, and as quickly as politely possible, he politely fobbed reporters and spectators alike to leave at the first polite chance, which took him more than half an hour. There were times when he hated his polite education.

When he finally stood in front of the door to his rival's room, he hesitated for the first time. What if Shindou didn't want to talk to him, if he wanted to lick his wounds alone? Wasn't that what he had signalled by his wordless retreat? But then, what did he care if Shindou _wanted_ to talk to him.

Firmly Akira knocked his knuckles at Shindou's door. When he didn't get any response, however, he determinedly beat harder. „Shindou?"

Akira sighed and fruitlessly tried some more minutes, until he finally gave up. He could scarcely force his way into the others room, as much as he'd like to.

Shindou. He heard the muted sound of a nearby opening door, as he was about to close his bag, finished packing. He couldn't tell which of the rooms adjoining to his had been opened; immediately he darted out into the corridor to verify. "Shin-…" he began, and as he noticed that it wasn't his rival that had opened the door. "Oh."

"Excuse me," he asked politely, "the guest of this room, has he already left?"

"Of course," The cleaning woman answered with a polite smile, "Excuse me please," she then said and disappeared with her rolling table into the room. Unwillingly he pressed his lips together, frustrated about the fact that he had let Shindou leave without noticing. "Damn!" he muttered.

"Excuse me… did Shindou Hikaru check out already?"

"Which room?" the receptionist asked.

"Threehundredandone."

"Yes, he had already given back his key. About half an hour ago."

Vexed, Akira could barely bite back a loathy growl. It was not that he really cared that Kurata had planned an after talk of the games… which wouldn't have happened anyway - Kurata had been invited by the team-managers of Korea and China, An Teson and Yang Hai to a consolation-dinner in an all-you-can-eat restaurant, and the alimentophile Go-pro hadn't been able to resist.

Shindou wouldn't dare to stop playing like he did one year ago, would he?

He couldn't!

But it was that desperate look in Shindou's eyes, that lost and lonely look that made him fear. Far too closely his eyes resembled to when he had sought him out at his school after Shindou not appearing to neither Oteai nor Young Lions Tournament.

As if something truly tragic and heartbreaking had happened.

In his heart, Akira suspected that it had something to do with Sai - like most of the inexplicabilities of Shindou's behaviours did. He had so wanted to ask him these two days long, but, when he had remembered Shindou's promise to tell him the truth, he hadn't. Now, looking back, he wasn't sure if this had been the right decision, because maybe if he knew, he could understand Shindou's behaviour.

What… what if he _really_ would stop playing! The thought alone made his stomach clench in fear.

So… Shindou had managed to run away from Akira at that time in the school library, but he wouldn't let him do so today! Akira was determined in his unique, single-minded way. He _needed_ his rival!

"Excuse me, can I use your phone?" he asks the receptionist.

"Yes, of course."

"Thank you very much."

Akira grips the receiver, hastily types a number.

"Hello, Touya Akira speaking. I need the telephone number of Shindou Hikaru."

'We apologize, but this office is currently not occupied. Please call later or leave a message after the signal…"

Testily Akira hung up.

"Damn!" he cursed inwardly, "Since when the Go Institute is that irresponsible!"

"Shindou-baka!" Akira agitatedly cursed. „Did you intend this to be a bad joke! How am I supposed to find you with _that_!" He glared at the offending little piece of paper that very innocently lay on the table beside the telephone. Once at home, he had found the sheet of paper containing his rival's address and phone number very quickly. Only a shabby small sheet, and Akira had to unfold it to get a look at the content. His fatal mistake had been that he hadn't checked the paper when Shindou had given it to him.

Akira only just bit back an irate growl, as he tried to stare down the (innocent) characters on the paper, making them responsible for something Shindou had done. They were the worst cacography he had ever seen! So abominable Shindou's writing and spelling were that poor eighty percent of the address was legible. And even worse was the half of the telephone had gone awry in his scrawl.

In his incensement Akira screwed up the piece of paper in his hand, inwardly cursing Shindou for all the suffering he unconsciously dealt him. Reigning in his feelings he smoothened the paper out and laid it beside his city map with the intent to localize Shindou's residence from the measly hints of his note.

* * *

When they stepped onto the creaking, old planks of the attic, Akira instantly perceived the goban the old man, Shindou's grandfather, had chatted about so merrily. Through a tiny window straight ahead some rays of the afternoon sun shone into the room and dust particles glittered in the air. Per contra the warmly glowing wood was clean and shining, but what immediately caught his eye was a plain white fan lying upon it. Shindou's fan.

Akira rushed there, leaving the old man with his stories of spirits and ghost behind, and quickly kneeled in front of the goban. He softly palpated the fan with his fingertips. He saw where the haft was slightly splintered and darkened from Shindou's grip and his sweat. Just as he was about to let go, and give up, he perceived some ripples in the papery upper part of the piece. Carefully he opened the fan several centimetres.

* * *

Hikaru, not knowing where to go with his pain and his disappointment, sought solace in the old goban out of which once his friend had appeared. Because somewhere, deep inside there still lived the hope to maybe see him once again. Sai… probably the ghost would be angry because he had lost, maybe he would tell him off, but maybe he would say some words of solace and encouragement, as he had done so often before. And just maybe he would stay a little longer, for a quick game… maybe…

How much he wished for it… to see him again… Sai.

But on the wood there were no hidden tears except his own, and they also fell on the fan, lying upon it, leaving wet blots, that quickly dried in the warm air of May. There were none of Torajiro's bloodstains, and no ghost with a huge hat, a kind, sometimes childish smile and a thousand year old passion for Go emerged before his eyes.

_Sai… I miss you!_ Big tears rolled over his cheeks anew. _Come back, Sai… I miss you… Come back!_

Suddenly he couldn't bear it any longer in front of the goban, on which he knew he would never again see these stains… never hear that kind voice again, and out of which nevermore would emerge his friend. Agitatedly he closed the fan and left it lying there, for Sai, and still crying, fled from the loft.

* * *

Akira closed the fan and gently put it back onto the goban. After some polite valedictions to grandfather Shindou he took his leave. Where to? He didn't really know. To find Shindou he would need something akin to a miracle.

_Shindou-baka…_ thought an angry Akira Touya. _If it's really you who is chasing me, why… why it's always me who has to run after you!_

Beaten, he made his way to the metro station.

* * *


	2. Epilogue Part 2

**Epilogue of the Hokuto-Cup. Part 2**

"Touya."

A dark shadow of a figure glided towards him from between the monuments and shrines.

"Shindou…!" Relief quickened Akira's breathing for some moments and he almost forgot the low yelp that had escaped his throat at being thus surprised, cornered between the memorials of the Honmyo Temple that loomed around him like a black forest of stone into the night blue sky.

Blood which he hadn't been aware leaving his face, rushed back at once into his head and especially into his cheeks. The thought of ghosts, triggered by the silvery grey mist that wafted between the memorials and the slow chilly breeze that came with it and made all the little hairs on his body stand up, was divulged to ridicule by the solid, warm body beside him.

"Did I scare you?" Shindou's voice, though quiet, like his own embarrassing yelp from before resounded far through the muted monuments. "That was the revenge for all the times you scared the shit out of me…" Angrily Akira fixed Shindou's glittering eyes, merely inches away from his. He had very distinctly heard the raspy, exhausted tone, but his nerves with Shindou were wearing thin. "What are you doing, at night, at a graveyard?" he demanded to know.

"I'm visiting Shusaku's grave, as you most probably have guessed…" Although Shindou tried to sound snappy, he didn't really manage, because Akira heard how throaty and weak his voice sounded, and he, correctly, guessed his rival on the verge of tears. He put a hand on Shindou's shoulder, and felt it trembling.

_What are you doing here?_ He immediately wanted to ask. _And what is it between you and Shusaku and Sai?_ That there was a connection was proven by Shindou's presence here, at Shusaku's memorial stone, at Shusaku's birthday. But which was the connection between the two Go masters. Only one question was more pressing than these, a question that threatened to immediately leave his nervously quivering lips: _You're not going to stop playing Go? Tell me!_

But seeing his rival that drained and depleted, he didn't manage to voice any of the urging sentiments that rampaged in his heart.

He remained quiet, and looked at Shindou, who looked away. He could feel his chest moving irregularly under his hand. After some minutes Shindou seemed to calm down.

"How did you find me?" he asked his eyes not on Akira but Shusaku's memorial stone.

"Someone gave me a lucky hint."

"Someone?" his voice was low with fatigue interspersed by curiosity.

"A man named Kawai."

"Kawai?" Shindou made a chuckling noise low in his throat and Akira took his hand from Shindou's shoulder. "You know Kawai?"

"Accidentally I met him and his friends in the metro. They came from watching the Hokuto-Cup. And they… " Akira hesitated, lacking an accurate word to describe the situation, "They _recognised_ me."

"Eh?" made Shindou at the meaningful emphasis on the word. Then he remembered Kawai's usual behaviour, "They have quite an _enthusiastic _way to treat people, ne?"

Akira slightly inclined his head towards Shindou. "You could say that."

"And Kawai," Shindou leaned closer and Akira turned his head towards him, frowning. Shindou didn't seem to mind, scrutinising his head –or maybe his ears? - from all sides, a strange glitter in his eyes, "Did he ruffle your hair?"

"What?" Akira exclaimed in shock.

"No, I guess not. He wouldn't dare," His voice had an amused note "That's what he always did to me…" he stopped and then grumbled, correcting himself, "what he _still_ does to me…"

"Oh." Akira made.

"Yeah…" agreed Hikaru sarcastically, "very funny. He's about the equivalent of your Kitajima-san concerning fanatism."

Akira thought about it. "It seems we each have our own very devoted fanclub."

"Yeah-hhh…" the end of Shindou's confirmation stretched into his involuntary yawn. Falling into a heavy silence once again, Shindou pushed his hands into his pockets. With watery eyes he stared at the dark stone, where Akira barely could discern the signs on it in the yellow glow of the light that always hung over a city such as Tokyo.

Akira rested quiet for a couple of minutes and thought about how he best could approach Shindou to get him to open up. He repeated the words he had said at the tournament. He hoped it would be enough.

"There is no end…"

"Hn?" Shindou evidently shook out of his thoughts with his shoulders tensing. For a moment he looked Touya straight in the eye, before he turned back to the stone and sighed. His shoulders relaxed.

"You're right," he murmured, "It was a hard game for me, but I have to move on."

Akira suddenly let out a breath he couldn't remember holding.

"Shindou…" he began.

"No, there is no end," Shindou muttered, ignoring Akira. He seemed to be talking to himself as much as addressing Shusaku's stone. "Tomorrow I have a game against Suyon, next week I can finally play –and maybe beat – Touya," Akira bristled inwardly at such presumption, "in the Young Lions Tournament, and soon I'll rise enough to play more of the higher Dans on Thursdays - although the Hokuto-Cup was much more fun, playing people my age - and there are still so many great kifu of you I have to study…" he trailed off.

_Sai…_ Hikaru thought, seeing his long-haired mentor sitting on the memorial stone in front of him, benignly smiling down on him, _I'll never forget you and your Go… always hold you in high respect, study all that games of you… and surely I'll remember us, and never forget the games we shared. But from there on, I'll move on!_

"No… there really is no end. This…" even though he spoke in such a low voice Akira heard a smile curving Shindou's lips, "This is just the beginning!"

Akira let out all his fears in one deep sigh of relief.

"Yes…" he agreed.

He let Shindou stare at the dark grave for some more minutes, before he said: "It's late. Let's go."

He saw Shindou's almost imperceptible nod and gladly turned to leave the Honmyo Temple. It was quiet and nice and peaceful here and the air smelled sweet, filled with the scent of evening flowers and blooming trees. But he was tired and exhausted and the Hokuto-Cup and Shindou's odd behaviour had torn all his nerves into tiny little pieces. He wished nothing more than simply sleep for days and nothing less than to baby-sit an emotionally instable rival at a graveyard.

When they neared the metro station, Shindou said: "I met Su Yong when I left the ceremony. He told me all that stuff from Yongha, that it was a translation mistake at first, until Yongha got provoked by me and ended up provoking me," he sighed, "somehow I can't help but feel that I made a complete idiot out of myself."

Inwardly, Akira could only agree. But he as well had been too affected to notice before. And Su Yong had told him too. "It was Kurata-sans assessment of you that you would take the next step."

"Was that why he let me play first board? I guess he can be a nice guy if he wants to…"

"Kurata-san relies on his intuition a great deal."

"Yeah, maybe…"

Silence. Their steps on the ground.

"Ah…" Shindou seemed to remember something, "why actually did you come here?"

"Just to have a look at Shusaku's memorial stone," Akira quickly lied.

"Ah." And Shindou seemed to believe him.

Before they parted, Akira said, instead of a good-bye: "Don't think that just because Kurata-san let you play first board you're better than me, because you're not."

"What?" Shindou exclaimed and prepared to protest, but Akira interrupted him. "The Young Lion Tournament will show."

"Is this a challenge?" Shindou's eyes glittered.

"It is. I'll win and there'll be nothing you can do!" He turned away. "I'm in the Go salon on Friday," the words were neutral but the tone clearly stated that he expected Shindou to be there too.

On that, he left.

"Touya!" Sounding angry Shindou called after him, "Just prepare to lose!"

Secretly, Akira smiled.

* * *

"Uwah… I can't bear it anymore!" Waya exclaimed, dropping back and, frustrated, tearing at his hair, "Let's stop discussing Shindou's game. It's just so demoralising. To think that he was insei with us just one and a half years ago…!"

The atmosphere in Waya's room was crowded, because in his one-room apartment small for one person, were packed six people around his goban. There were Waya and Isumi, opposite each other, recreating the game. Between them kneeled Honda, a freckled, light haired guy, and Ochi, whom an angry opponent once had nicknamed 'four-eyed mushroom', on one side and Nase, a sweet, pretty girl about Waya's age, and red haired Komiya, who was now on the top of the insei class, at the other. Additionally there were Fukui, speed-go specialist, and Adachi, the second in the insei ranking, lying stomach-flat on Waya's not very neatly folded futon and looking down on the game.

"Let's look at Touya's game..." Nase proposed quietly, halfway lost in discouraging thoughts how she had only beat Hikaru once, when he had been all new in the insei's first group. "At least, with Touya," she sighed, shaking her head, "we know already that was better than us since he was ten…"

Isumi, who had thought to encourage his insei friends by inviting them to the study of the Hokuto Cup game, was left ruminative by the crestfallen manner that Nase had displayed the whole evening already. "What is it, Nase?" he asked shyly, concerned.

Nase only sighed deeper in response. "It's nothing… Just… it's very frustrating for me too, looking at these games… it encourages me in a way, because I see what I want to become… I can read most of the moves they play… and it even more discourages me, because… I… I can't play like that. I probably never will…"

"Don't say that, Nase!" Waya's protested agitatedly at the depression of his friend, "You're getting better every day! You're almost at the top of insei class now!"

"Yeah…" Fukui agreed enthusiastically, his round face screwing up, as he emphasized his words. "You even beat me in every game now!"

"I know…!" she hung her head, thankful her shoulder length hair obscured her face from the worried gazes she felt from her friends. Her hair was fine strands of shining bronze… silently she wondered if a boyfriend would like her hair. What would it be like to be in real relationship? How would it be if she had the time to date someone frequently… to have a relationship, like all the other seventeen year old girls around her… everyone seemed so happy. Go was her dream, it was her life… but was it really all that was to life? And was she even good enough for it to be her all?

She emerged from her thoughts, straightening up, and announced what she had thought of long before, her voice clear and strong: "This year will be my last pro exam. If I don't pass it, it's over for me."

"You'll make it, you'll make it!" Waya encouraged her, and the others agreed and she smiled at their gentle support. But inwardly the doubts remained and she thought, If I fail, at least I'll finally have the time for a boyfriend.

* * *

Tsutsui probably would have thought twice about going to the school library for preparing his next history exam had he known he would find his now again classmate Tetsuo Kaga there. The redhead had grown in the last years and his figure had filled out quite attractively so half of the school's girls lay to his feet. As always ignoring the school rules he had grown his hair into a ponytail that even heightened his 'bad boy' appearance and made him the natural leader of the schools mischievous students… to the horror of his teachers and of Tsutsui, who somehow stupidly felt responsible of it.

Kaga was also one of the most gifted students, so knowing him for years Tsutsui knew that Kaga had a serious, studious side too. He only hid it exceptionally well from the rest of the school and Tsutsui had never seen the need to enlighten anyone about Kaga's secret learning. But at least he knew why Sunday evening found him in the school library.

Tsutsui quickly got over his surprise and stepped nearer to a Kaga who was evidently lost in his thoughts, leaning with his back to the door at an open window.

"So you're still into that bad habit of yours…" Tsutsui greeted him.

"Oh…" Kaga turned around and for a fleeting moment Tsutsui saw surprise flit over the other's face. A rather rare – and becoming – emotion, Tsutsui thought. Kaga didn't seem as haughty and hard-bitten as he usually presented himself. He got over it quickly and turned fully around, only his arm with his cigarette in his fingers remained lying on the ledge, beside his famous Shougi-fan. "Tsutsui…" he drawled, „What a surprise… I see you've come nerd-ing. And that on a Sunday…" Kaga chuckled condescendingly and even though Tsutsui heard that there was no malice behind the comment, found himself biting back. "And what are you doing, eh?" with a snappy movement of his hand that wasn't holding his book-heavy bag he indicated to the pile of open books lying on the table beside the window.

"I'm only enjoying a quiet summer evening in a place where usually no one disturbs me…" Kaga nonchalantly explained, his mouth's corners twitching. He flipped his cigarette out of the window and picked up his fan. Leaning against the windowsill, with his right foot hooked behind his left and the fan playing in his hands, he looked disgustingly cool.

"Oh, I'm sorry to be a nuisance to you…" Tsutsui knew Kaga long enough that a certain bond of uneasy friendship allowed his sarcasm.

Kaga laughed at his poor attempt at irony. "I heard you got yourself a girlfriend…" He said with a teasing, dirty grin.

Tsutsui was immediately disarmed and changed into tomato mode, bashfully stammering something unintelligible.

Kaga grinned good-naturedly and waved his hand for Tsutsui to relax. "No need to blush so badly… I almost envy you!"

"Ah? What? Ah?" Tsutsui stuttered, uneasy at this personal topic, especially in front of Kaga.

"Almost, I said," Kaga flapped his famous Shougi fan and fanned some air to his face. "But you sure need it more…" said he and fanned air into Tsutsui's hot red face, which only caused him to be more embarrassed.

"How's your Go club going?" Kaga asked, sitting down as well after Tsutsui did so, "Shall I recruit you any new members?" A feral grin decorated his face.

"No, no… that's really not necessary!" Tsutsui refused, rather uneasy recalling the incidents with Kaga at Haze. "Actually," he said, "I was watching the Hokuto-Cup today, you know, that Japan-China-Korea Jr. Tournament."

"Oh that… I've heard about it! Already some time ago. I didn't know it was today. How was it?"

"Shindou-kun was first board today!" Tsutsui enthusiastically recounted, "And he played really great against Korea's Ko Yong-Ha! Although," his mood darkened, "he lost. Team Japan lost both games against China and Korea, because Touya Akira was the only one who won, both times."

"Hn…" Kaga grunted and didn't comment on it. They diverted their attention to their history books.

"You know…" Kaga said after several pages, suddenly pensive, "I really wonder how Shindou is… Have you talked to him?"

Tsutsui shook his head. „I wanted visit Amiko-chan, er… my girlfriend, before coming here so I left just after the game…"

"Ah… the joy of sweet love…" Kaga piped jovially, making fun of Tsutsui. "I'm sure Shindou and Touya will be freed of the nuisance of having to bear a girlfriend. They would be far too occupied with their Hokuto-Cups and title tournaments and study sessions…"

"A girlfriend is no nuisance," Tsutsui contradicted, forcefully snapping a book closed. He couldn't imagine a life without his Amiko-chan any more.

"Maybe," Kaga admitted, „but not for them."

"Do you think so?" Tsutsui asked sadly, knowing that Shindou's childhood friend Akari still had a crush on him, that she still hoped that Hikaru would notice her one day.

"They work fulltime, they don't have time. But maybe? Hah," Kaga closed his fan with a snap as an idea crossed his mind, "Maybe I'll visit him someday…"

"To be his girlfriend?" Tsutsui asked absent-mindedly, only listening to Kaga with half an ear. He already had his nose buried in another book.

"What?" Kaga exclaimed and his wild red hair seemed to be standing up in even higher and straighter spikes, as if intending to punctuate his anger. Tsutsui looked up from his book, bewildered at Kaga's ire. And then it dawned on him what exactly had had just said. Which again caused him to tomato deeply red. Out of year-long reflexes of being with Kaga he immediately hid behind his books, stammering: „I…I'm ..so…sorry… I didn't… me-mean that!" He ducked his head so that Kaga's fan strike passed his head.

Then Tsutsui forgot his history exam as Kaga wildly chased him around the library.

* * *

His feet soles throbbed, sending little stabs of pain throughout his whole exhausted body, as he slowly shuffled the last few meters to his house. There were moments when he was thankful that his parents weren't at home – or rather, his father, would he be? He had been told that he'd had watched today's game. But has been seen leaving directly thereafter to continue his travelling. Just maybe… what would be if he had chosen to remain at home this night? What would he say about Akira's game? Would he be as proud of his son as he hoped he would be? – he sighed deeply and it cost every remaining strength in his body to even remain standing upright and not to be crawling on all fours. So it should be well if nobody were at home, he didn't wish for any conversation, his need of communication being entirely satisfied with the Hokuto-Cup weekend, and his body was tired from stress and a long day and running after Shindou, and his mind exhausted from the stress of training, and Shindou's stubborn determination, and the Hokuto-Cup, and of having to search for Shindou, and all the pressure from being the representative of his country, and the only one to speak the other two languages at least rudimentarily enough to be polite and being the strongest player and therefore being the one posed the most questions and having to hear out the most criticism, and because being the eternal rival of a monosyllabic Shindou having to fend off the reporters of his rival…

His train of thoughts was disrupted by a smell that penetrated his nose. As the garden door creaked open the familiar stench of cigarettes stung in his nostrils. He identified a known brand of smoking which he since he was very small had always associated with Seiji Ogata. So he wasn't surprised when he found an elegant figure, clad in the usual stylish way, only not his white suit but darker trousers and chemise with the upper buttons opened, sitting on the front porch, nonchalantly smoking a cigarette. Only the eyes of the person glittered in a dark face, silvery white, in contrast to the smouldering red tip of the cigarette stick. Grey smoke whirled around it, slowly spiralling its way into the air, unhindered by the still, already summerly, night-fresh air.

Ogata greeted him, his clear baritone voice a little raspy due to the bad habit of smoking, but nevertheless retaining deep vibrations, almost giving it an undertone of purring. "Ah… Akira-kun… "

"Good evening… er… good night, Ogata-san." Akira straightened his shoulders, conscious of the undignified act of losing his composure in front of people. And that on a night when he wished nothing more than to simply drop into his bed without any further ado. His suit which he hadn't had the time to change was rumpled and weighed heavily on him.

"So… here you are…" Ogata leisurely tipped the ash into a small ash tray standing beside him, "And I thought you would be out partying with your friends and not come back until four in the morning."

Akira froze in his steps. "I was not on a party!" he exclaimed defendantly.

"Relax…" Ogata said with a little grin in his voice, because teasing Akira was one of his favourite hobbies, the privilege of an almost-uncle so to speak, "and sit down," he patted the porch beside him. "You look tired."

Akira didn't think long about it. Glad that he wouldn't need to put on a dignified charade, which was pretty futile in Ogata's sarcastic presence anyway, he sat down beside his friend. "I am," he admitted, leaning his head on the wooden column that sustained the roof of the house.

Akira felt his eyes resting on him. He answered the unspoken question, because he knew the silences of the now two-title holder well enough, "Shindou…" he dryly explained his late home-coming and his weariness.

"Ah well…" Ogata lopsidedly grinned at Akira, "He seems to be affecting your moral in quite a unique way…"

_He's my eternal rival… what did you expect? He's one of the persons I just can't let go, whatever they do, however strangely or stupidly they behave. _Akira thought but didn't say it aloud.

"Though I was surprised," Ogata continued, "that he played first board today."

"You were not the only one. Most of the people wouldn't believe it at first." With a smile he thought back to people's reactions at the Cup. Now the concentration, anxiety and nervosity of the games were gone he remembered, and enjoyed, the stupefied expressions on their faces.

"And you were not?"

"Not really. It was previsible."

"It was? Shindou's already better than you?"

"He's not!" Akira protested, at once sitting up straight, flashing a glare at Ogata.

Ogata ignored it and Akira was tired enough to drop his angry gaze after several seconds and to relax back into his slouch. "And you were angry, because he played first board?"

"Angry?" Akira closed his eyes, "Not really." At Ogata's expecting silence, he added, "Should I?"

Ogata shot him a funny look, "How would I know?"

"It was a very important step for him to do, emotionally and Go-technically," Akira explained, "Kurata-san sensed that. But of course, I'd have liked to play Ko Yong-Ha too."

Maybe, tomorrow when Shindou unofficially played Suyon, he could meet Ko Yongha for a battle too.

Ogata didn't answer, so in the few minutes of silence that followed his consciousness almost slipped away. If not for his uncomfortable position, leaning against a wooden column, he would have slept in instantly.

"I let myself in, you don't mind if I sleep over, do you?" Since Ogata's was his father's most trusted and befriended student, he possessed a key to the house.

"Of course not," Akira answered sleepily without opening his eyes, because some of his longer bangs had fallen across them. "I'd be happy if you do, naturally."

Ogata only grunted and lit another cigarette. "There came a taxi, only some time ago. Said it was from the hotel you lived in and brought your bag here. Said you forgot it."

"My bag?" Akira opened his eyes and felt his eyelashes colliding with the hair that was tickling his cheeks. "Oh, yes, I called them to please bring it to me."

Ogata's silence was as eloquent as ever, urging Akira to go on speaking. "I had to talk to Shindou," he explained his unusual forgetfulness, not caring anymore if Ogata understood what he was talking about. He heard the deep intake of breath Ogata took and the rustling of his clothes as he moved his hand to his lips. Akira had already noticed that Ogata wore a more relaxed kind of clothing today, simple dark trousers, grey or black and short-sleeved polo shirt of maybe dark red colour with its collar open. It left him looking more youthful and definitely not as unapproachable as usual, because even if Akira knew Ogata wasn't at all unapproachable but rather a very social kind of person, he understood why other people might see him as such. Usually, to the study group, or even when he only came to dispute a match with his father, he wore one of his light suits, with dark blue chemises, mostly even with a tie. So today, Ogata not wearing his 'fighting gear' Akira knew Ogata did come only for him. Not because of a game, not because of his father, just for him…

A small smile crept onto his tired face all on its own and he thought that even if his parents were away, there were still people who cared for him.

"Congratulations for your wins by the way…"

"Eh?" Akira was torn out of his thoughts. "Oh… thank you…" The smile on his face widened as somewhere inside him a happy drowsy warmness grew.

"It was very strong go you played," Ogata praised the player who was on the verge of becoming a force to be reckoning with – far too fast for his own liking, he had to admit – and he was rewarded by the happy smile of the sweet, little boy he had seen grow up. But Akira shouldn't be getting too self-confident, it would be bad for his character, Ogata told himself.

"You really should thank me for it," he said, "Since it really was me who allowed your little friend Shindou to…"

"He's not my friend," Akira corrected him, a little piqued already by Ogata's prepotence, "he's my rival…"

"So… your rival then…" Ogata conceded without sounding too convinced, but a sleek smile in his voice, "you should thank me, because it was me who permitted him the insei exam and encouraged you both to chase one after the other."

"I remember…" Akira said neutrally, facing the memory of Ogata's 'encouragement' with decidedly mixed feelings.

"So you know you owe for it," the cigarette hang suspended between his lips as Ogata lazily slouched on the porch, "You both can reward me by improving. I guarantee you that in several years, ten of fifteen maybe, you'll be able to catch up to me if you try hard."

_In ten or fifteen years?_ Akira thought, suddenly all his warm feelings towards Ogata turning cold. He truly loved Ogata like the big brother he had never had, but _sometimes_ his conceited self-assurance was just too much! In ten or fifteen years? When would Ogata stop looking down on him and see him for the Go player he really was? Ogata didn't take him seriously. Like in the game in the Honinbo league, several months ago.  
_You are below me, Akira-kun._ What had possessed his normally gentle friend to say the likes? And now this? It was exactly these commentaries that he despised, especially if he knew them incorrect. He had felt the difference in their strength in that game, and it wasn't as far as Ogata wanted him to believe. Did he think him stupid, or that easily influenceable?

"In ten years, I intend to beat Father," Akira answered with his voice neutrally cool. His inflection left no doubt that he considered his father well above Ogata.

Ogata laughed it off as a joke, though the hidden shakiness of it didn't escape Akira, who knew his friend so well, telling him that the intended insult had arrived and even had had its effect.

"I've beaten Sensei even in title matches and he'll fall, before you've even beaten him for the first time," Ogata retorted frostily.

Akira stood up. "I'm very tired," he replied politely, but equally without warmth, "Good night, Ogata-san. Thank you for coming."

* * *

"Tadaimaa," Hikaru called tiredly as he peeled his shoes off his feet, his eyes already half closed.

"Ah… Hikaru you're home…" his mother said in a voice raised by utter relief, "Where have you been that long? I've been so worried... I…"

"I'm okay, Mum," Hikaru interrupted impatiently, stepping from the anteroom into the corridor. To get away from his mother's scrutinizing gaze that nervously swept all over his body to check if he was ok he went into the kitchen.

As her son opened the refrigerator to get his favourite lemonade, she took a heart and even though he looked so tired and probably wouldn't answer she asked: "How was your game today?"

He cast to her a sleepy, wondering look from over the rim of his glass that he had just drunk from and that still was suspended at his lips. He considered not answering and immediately going to bed, but then he shrugged and removed the glass from his lips. "I lost…," he said.

"Oh…" his mother looked troubled and had her hand somewhere near her mouth, not really sure of how to react.

"It's okay," he told her, trying to be gentle to her, make her understand. Since he knew about Yashiro's parents he was less inclined to be rude to his mother. "It was a good game nevertheless."

"Oh…" his mother made another unsure sound and Hikaru smiled at her nice puzzlement.

"Good night, mum." He drank the rest of his lemonade and put the glass in the sink.

"Good night, Hikaru," answered his mother. "Oh, Hikaru…" she suddenly called after him.

"Yes?" he twisted his torso, one hand at the banister and one foot already on the stairs. He watched his mother hurrying out of the kitchen, hurrying in speaking. "A friend of yours came by this afternoon. Touya-kun was his name I think. He seemed to be searching for you…"

"He found me…" Hikaru smiled sleepily, "And he's not my friend, he's my rival."

_We'll play… He'll be there… Sai may be gone, but there'll always be Touya… _

* * *


	3. Chapter 1, Part I

Disclaimer: I don't own Hikago

A/N: I want to apologize for starting this fic off with an epilogue. It's not really suitable, an epilogue should be at the end of a story. The only thing that I can say to my defense it that I really really felt that the original manga wasn't really finished when it ended. And I found it impossible to write a fic starting after the Hokuto-Cup without first dealingwith that. And I found it very important that Hikaru finally overcomes Sai's loss before I start with anything else.  
I hope you'll like how it goes on!  
I know my English isn't best, so I want to apologize too for any mistakes I make. If anyone wants to beta, it would be very, very welcome!

So then, enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 1**

Part I

* * *

The nearer she walked to the Go Institute the slower her steps became. When she was about fifty paces from the entrance, the whole building was in view and she stopped. Her heart was beating rapidly, fluttering irregularly in her jest, the hot blood of nervousity turning the muscles in her knees to jelly. The next three months would show if she was worthy of fulfilling her dream of being a Go pro. She tried to push her numerous failures, she had fallen through the exams four times already, out of her mind and proceed, but like a black cloud they seemed to be hovering over her, pouring sticky black droplets of rain, like the black circles of defeat on the exam paper, down on her, gluing her to the ground. 

She felt her spirits dampening, her heart getting heavier. Even though she knew she should good enough to pass, she lacked the self-confidence to be sure. What if she ended like Isumi, who had failed several times despite being first of the insei?

For a fleeting moment the thought of giving up, simply turning around and never coming back, of leaving all the stress behind, flitted through her mind. The thought dissolved as quickly as it had appeared but, nevertheless, she couldn't bring herself to make a step forward either.

She was only shaken out of her thoughts by her cell phone vibrating in her pocket, telling her that she had received a message.

To her surprise it was her old insei friend Waya, and he encouraged her for the pro exam!

'_I'm sure you'll pass!'_ he wrote, '_Just play your best.'_

A small ray of sunshine, she thought, but all the black clouds vanished before it.

'_I will!'_ she answered.

With a smile she took a deep breath of the warm September air, and confidently strode along several peers, who had emerged as a group from the metro, to the double doors of the Go Institute.

* * *

Irresolutely Akira stood in front of his mirror, holding several chemises against his chest, trying to pick one to wear today. His choice was limited, because most of his clothes waited to be washed. In front of his parents he had bragged that he was doing very well by himself, but now, since they were abroad for ever longer time spans, the task of cleaning, washing and especially ironing became more tedious every passing day.

And he was already running out of time. It was a Wednesday morning and he had an Oteai game starting in one hour. Stroppily he dropped the three chemises he held onto the small stool that stood in his room, and stared at his bare chest in dismay. At the moment he'd prefer to wear a simple shirt like Shindou always did, but unfortunately that wasn't his style and besides, when he had looked out this morning, a fresh wind had blown vast amounts of coloured leaves by his nose. He would need at least a jacket today.

He changed his gaze from his chest to his chemises. Maybe there wasn't a problem with them. Maybe he simply was reluctant to go out of his house. If his mother were here, she would simply pick one for him. Sometimes he missed her deeply. And simply by her presence she had the ability to soothe all his worries away. Not that he had a problem with his opponent for today. He knew he could easily beat Waya Yoshitaka. But he had slept heavily that night, and his dreams hadn't been pleasant. And one of them had been about the reddish-brown haired youth with the strong eyebrows. An involuntary shiver ran over the naked skin of his chest as he remembered. It had been a similar situation like at his pro exam when Waya had shouted at him and affronted him without any reason. He had been surprised then, shocked at Waya's behaviour, and even though he didn't like the sound of the truth it had hurt him deeply. He had long forgotten about that incident, but right now his feelings were as clear as if it had happened yesterday.

He shook himself free of his thoughts and simply picked the chemise that lay on top. He wasn't going to be intimidated by a dream or some unpleasant memory! A glance at the watch told him that he was almost late. Ridiculous, he thought, I'm never late (especially not because of a dream).

When he rushed out of the door of the garden, he almost stumbled over a brownish lump that lay there. Only at a second glance he recognised it as a small animal. A cat, actually a little kitten was crouching on the grey pavement in front of his garden door, shivering in the cool wind that made its hair stand up in all directions - like Waya's, he thought with a wry smile. As he still stared at it, wondering how it could have gotten there, the kitten opened its mouth and meowed, a small, piteous sound. The kitten appeared so lonely that his heart clenched painfully. Out of yellow round orbs it stared at him, pleading for his help. And he knew he couldn't leave it out here, all freezing and afraid and alone.

He glanced back at his house. He didn't know what his parents thought about pets; actually, he had never considered having one. But then he shrugged and picked the little kitty up from the ground. He was surprised it was so light, its long coat made it look much bigger than it really was. His parents weren't here and wouldn't return for one month. And the house was huge and empty and he would like some company. Whatever problem the little cat might pose, it was very hungry he supposed because as soon as he held it, it started to suck at his fingers, he would deal with when it arose. In the meantime there was still some fish left in his fridge which the little cat would hopefully like.

* * *

Impatiently Akira sat in front of the Goban, waiting for Waya to finally announce his defeat. He didn't know what the other could still be thinking about, it had been clear for ten hands that he didn't have the slightest chance to even postpone his defeat. From the corner of his eye he saw Shindou leaving the game room. He tore his gaze back to Waya who hadn't spoken a single word to him before the game. But from his body language alone Akira knew that Waya's strong dislike of him still persisted. Now, analysing the emotions graved into Waya's face, Akira realised that Waya probably took so long to give up not because he didn't know his defeat but because it hurt his pride too much. Inwardly, Akira smirked. He knew it was very unprofessional to gloat over a victory, and he rarely permitted himself this emotion, but for Waya he was willing to make an exception.

He became so absorbed in his own thoughts that he almost didn't catch Waya's mumbled: "I have nothing."

Before he had even finished to give the ritual answer: "Thank you for the game," Waya had stood up and quickly exited the room.

Akira shook his head and followed. From Waya he wasn't surprised to not get any courtesy. He felt anger arising but tried to push it away. Waya wasn't worth any of his attention.

But in the entrance hall he saw him again, talking to Shindou. He couldn't catch the words but from the look on Waya's face he supposed it was nothing good about him. For a moment he thought about having a word with Shindou, but then decided against it. He wasn't too sure of how Shindou would react to him in Waya's presence and frankly, he didn't want to know. Besides, they already had decided when they would play next in his Go-salon. So he didn't really _need_ to talk to him.

_Still a pity_, he thought with a sigh, _I'd have liked to simply exchange a few words._

He went on his way out of the Institute, but as Shindou noticed him and flashed him a quick smile and a wave, before he continued talking to Waya, Akira returned the greeting by giving Shindou a nod of his head, feeling a little brighter than before.

* * *

Waya, who pretended to ignore Touya, still noticed the quick greetings the two young men had exchanged. Touya's cool nod in contrast to Shindou's warm smile. His anger at Touya still seethed deeply in his blood. He followed the black haired pro with the disgusting hair style with his gaze until he left the building.

Gritting his teeth, he asked Shindou: "Don't you mind him treating you like that?"

"Treating me like what?" Shindou asked naively.

"Like _that_," Waya spat, jerking his head in the direction where Touya had left. "Him being all cold and aloof."

Shindou shrugged. Waya didn't get it, as Shindou shook his head, saying: "No, why should I? I think that's just the way he is."

Waya snorted. Shindou sometimes liked to idealise Touya a bit too much for his liking.

"I'm not sure if you two are really rivals," he said, more to vent off his anger than to offend Shindou, actually, but who had pissed him off nevertheless, "He pays no more attention to you than at that time when you were an insei!"

Shindou jerked and his eyebrows drew together angrily: "Of course we're rivals! We play at least once every week if we have time!"

Waya wasn't impressed. "And have you ever beaten him?"

"No… but that doesn't matter!" he insisted, but a little doubt had sneaked even in his voice.

* * *

About two weeks later Nase met with Isumi and Waya at Waya's apartment to discuss her games halfway through the pro exam. She had done very well, and both prided her for her success. Because even if she had lost three of the games she still had a chance to succeed if she didn't lose any more.

"From now on it will be even harder," Waya said, "but we know that you can do it! We'll be here to support you!"

"Yes, of course you can do it!" Isumi agreed, "When even I managed to finally pass!"

"Thank you…" she said, lowering her eyes. She didn't want to appear unthankful, but the words she had to try hard not to utter were: _but you two have easy talking, because you're already pro._

To turn her thoughts back to her supporters, she asked: "And how have you two been faring in the last time? I haven't had the time to follow the 'Go Weekly' regularly, but I remember having read that you have reached two-Dan recently, Isumi-san. Congratulations!"

Isumi accepted her praise with a reluctant, almost embarrassed expression. Nase inwardly smiled, because Isumi, despite having twenty years had never lost his awkward self-consciousness around girls.

"And you Waya? It seems you have lost a game against Touya!" she said with a teasing smile. As she had predicted Waya erupted in a splash of loud denial and huffed justifications that because of Touya he hadn't been able to play his best until Isumi stopped him by explaining to her that Waya had again been impressed by Touya's reputation.

"No, no!" Waya protested vehemently. "It's not what you think! But he was being late! Late, you understand!" He hit his fist hard on the floor and his face screwed up in intense anger, "He was disrespecting me, I tell you, and I got deconcentrated, and… that bastard… that…" he lost himself in a selected collection of names that made Isumi blush even more than Nase.

Several minutes later Waya took a deep breath and drank a glass of the lemonade Nase had brought.

"But there are happier news, aren't there, Waya?" Isumi said when Waya had calmed down.

"Heh?" he asked, looking stupidly at Isumi.

"Waya is going to Europe next week!"

"Oh, really?" Nase exclaimed at the same time as Waya said: "Ah, you mean the Euro-Go seminary!"

"That's great!" Nase said. "I heard of that. It's a Go-seminary organised by the Ki-in for European Go players for ten days. The hotel is at one of that European hot springs and a very fancy one too." She smiled as she remembered the pictures in the 'Weekly Go' that had immediately caught here eye. She loved hot springs.

"Yeah," Waya grinned, "That's it. And I'm very lucky to be there, too, because the places are all reserved for older players," Waya gesticulated, his cup still in his hand, but fortunately without content, "but Morishita-sensei gave me his, because he said it would be good for my Go if I had some other influences!"

"I'm so envious of you," Isumi sighed.

"Me too, me too," Nase agreed heartily, again thinking of the fancy hotel and the fine, good-looking masseurs they would have there.

Waya leaned back a little, resting his weight on his hands behind his back.

"I wish too that you could come! I looked at the list of participants and it's full of old geezers!" he groaned, "There is only one place left open, and this one's cursed…"

"Cursed?" Nase frowned. "How's that?"

"Listen," Waya said, launching into the story, "At first it was a distant friend of Saeki's who got the place on the trip. I can't even remember his name, though Saeki told me. Well, this guy, he noticed that he, being not from the Nihon Ki-in but the Kansai Ki-in, didn't get the full financial support from the institute and he gave the place to hid friend Sasano-san."

"From the Nine-Stars-Club?" Isumi asked.

Waya nodded. "Yes, but he didn't hold the place for long, because his girlfriend won in some kind of lottery a two week cruise, which crosses dates with the European seminary."

"No…" Nase exclaimed, her eyes were dreamy, "How much I'd give to win something like that too…" _And to have a person to go with, too…_

"So…" Waya continued, "The place passed on to Tsukimura-san, who was hindered by something else, I can't even remember, but then Saeki-san got it."

"And what happened to Saeki-san?" Isumi asked, curious of what was still to come.

Waya frowned in dismay. "Saeki-san got problems yesterday with his wisdom teeth and the dentist prescribed some really bad treatment, with hospital and operations and all…"

"No, but that's awful!" Nase said compassionately.

Isumi, who hated dentists with all his soul, could only mutely agree.

Waya sighed. "Yes, poor Saeki. He knew he probably wouldn't be fully recovered in time, so he preferred someone else to go in his stead." Waya shook his head, "And so I asked Shindou.

"Shindou agreed… only to tell me two days later that his mother had forgotten to tell him about his cousin's wedding that would take place that week – though I suppose he forgot it himself, and was only too ashamed to admit it – and so he couldn't come. And now… the place is free again."

"Wow…" Nase and Isumi said at the same time.

"That's incredible!" Nase said.

Isumi grinned. "Either the place is really cursed or you have a very lively imagination!"

"It's true!" Waya insisted.

"And who's got that place now?" Nase asked.

"I don't know…" Waya answered.

* * *

The day of his study group, the last study group before his travel to Europe, he stood in the entrance hall of the Ki-In looking at the notice board, checking once again all the dates of the Euro-Go. He knew it by heart, but he was early. Absentmindedly he wondered who would get the last, the 'cursed' place, when suddenly he heard a soft, smooth voice, whose owner was a person he deeply detested, sounding through the open door of one of the secretary rooms. Touya Akira.

"… am very thankful for your consideration and the rescheduling of that many of my games and I sincerely want to apologize for causing so much trouble due to my spontaneous decision."

"That's no problem, Touya-kun," the deep voice of the pro responsible for the game schedule answered complaisantly, "Your father sometimes did have to reschedule some of his games too. We'll arrange that immediately, absolutely no problem!"

Waya had to suppress the urge to throw up when he noticed how eagerly the pros were boot-licking Touya, just because of his father, the ex-Meijin.

"Thank you very much," Touya said politely before he left the office. He strode out of the building with a very _mature_ air about him, not noticing the glances full of hatred that bore into his back.

Suddenly, when Touya was long away, the repercussions of what the reason for his rescheduling could be hit Waya. Dread filled him with every heartbeat.

_Please, God of Go,_ he prayed, one of the rare times in his life. _Please let it not be Touya who has the last place on the trip!_

If he were… the place would be really, entirely, cursed.

Waya knew that the last pro who joined them would share his room.

* * *

The airport was buzzing with noise and activity. Large groups of people, some girls hysterically chatting to each other, parents tearing their crying children behind them along with their luggage, lovers parting in tears, everything around him seemed to share the atmosphere of depart that Waya felt. The slight tingling in his feet, the eagerness he felt in his own steps, his slightly accelerated heartbeat… he was ready for a journey.

He was surrounded by the group of suit-clad elderly pros he would be going to Europe with. Each of them had his little suitcase with rolls and a long handle. Only one of them wasn't here yet.

Waya's heart dropped when he saw a person with an unmistakeable haircut crossing the hall towards them. His nightmares had become true.

"Excuse-me for being late," Touya 3-Dan apologized to the organisator, Mizokushi-sensei, even if he had been perfectly on time. "I'm replacing Shindou who was prevented."

* * *

Waya could have strangled Touya instantly. Only his good education held him back. Touya's passing glance at him when he had greeted the group of pros, as quickly as he had beat him last week. He had made sure that Waya was the last to greet. Waya hated him.

But when he felt his cell phone vibrating in his pocket, he pushed Touya, the airport and Europe out of his mind, hoping that the message was from Nase, with the news of the win in her crucial game against Adachi.

* * *

Nase sighed and lugubriously stared at the shining Goban in front of her. The horrible game she had played today was already cleared of it, but still she saw ghostly black and white stones clicking down.

She recognised the succession of moves that had decided the outcome of the game. Very deep in her mind, she _knew_ she should have been able to counter Adachi's final attack easily. But even now, when the game was over, her thoughts weren't able to penetrate the thick fog that clouded her mind.

Finally she managed to stand up, staggering against the weakness of her legs, as the games she had lost tried to keep her on the floor.

She was the last person leaving. She had waited until everyone else had gone; she hadn't even wanted to talk to Fukui.

Putting on her jacket, she took out her cell phone and switched it on, finding a messagefromWaya.

'_How was your game?'_ he asked.

'_I lost_ _against Adachi.'_ Nase wrote.

* * *

_Damn_, Waya thought, mindlessly following the other participants of the Go seminary to the gates, _The pro exam is nearing its end and Nase has held up well so far. Komiya is ahead from the others, but Adachi has been only one win ahead of her._

_The loss of today weighs heavily for Nase._

His bag rolling behind him and in the other hand holding his cell phone, he quickly typed a message to Nase.

* * *

Nase smiled melancholically as she got the return message from Waya.

'_Don't give up!' _He wrote, '_I'm rooting for you!' _

Waya was trying to encourage her. She didn't know why, but since before the beginning of this year's pro exam, Waya had been trying to take care of her. He seemed convinced that she would make it. And she tried to think positively herself too, but it was hard. There wasn't much she could do anymore, after today. Even if she won every single of the last games, Adachi still had to lose before she could pass. Depressed, she shook her head.

Before she could sink deeper in her misery of having lost, she read Waya's message again. '_Don't give up!'_

_Yes, it's not over yet,_ she thought.

'_I will fight!' _

_

* * *

A/N: _A little note at the end. I hope you like Nase (and Akira and Waya, of course). The name of Nase sounds quite funny in German, because it's exactly the word we have for 'nose'...  



	4. Chapter 1, Part II

**A/N: **Thanks very much to BlackWingedGabriel forbetaing this chapter for me! (I added the one or the other sentence just before posting, so if there mistakes they are all my fault alone!)  
Thanks to all my reviewers as well!  
to _Rinny_: (since I can't review-reply you) I can't say very much to your review, but I want to let you know I appreciate your views and thoughts very much! And I hope that you'll like how it goes on with Waya and Akira.

Enjoy reading!

**

* * *

Chapter 1. Part II**

It was already three days into the Go seminary and Waya felt terrible as he had seldom felt before. It was not that playing Go with the European players was boring; some of them were actually quite good and displayed interesting styles. He talked to them whenever he got the opportunity and as much as his poor English allowed.

No, what was really disappointing was his lack of real, Japanese social contacts. Most of the pros were about the age of fifty, not that he minded, but they proved to be not very captivating conversationalists and they didn't seem to particularly care for his presence either. In fact, there were only two people about his age - and he liked one less than the other. The first was of course Touya, with whom he had to share his room.

The hotel was beautiful and so was their room. It was painted in warm apricot colours, with rather modern, though tasteful, paintings. In one corner there stood a soft couch with cosy, embroidered pillows and a small table was at the window, overlooking a tall, snow-laden tree and a huge garden that bordered at a wood. He could only guess how beautiful it would be in the summer, when everything was green and the flowers were blooming. But even the smooth snow-blanked view, imprinted with traces of birds and rabbits, and shoes, had its own beauty.

It would have been a warm, comforting atmosphere – if there hadn't been the wall of ice that separated his half of the room from Touya's.

They barely spoke a word to each other, save what was really necessary, but he was okay with that. He didn't want to talk to Touya. Every time a fleeting glance met the arrogant young man, he was disgusted. It wasn't that Touya was being openly unpleasant, but just the look on his face, the way he eyes passed over Waya as if he wasn't there… and he had no way to vent off his anger anywhere.

And Touya was boring. In the evenings after their duties of teaching Go they usually came back to their room and Touya almost immediately started to read some kind of book with a pencil in his hand, with which he would every now and then scribble down some notes.

If Shindou would have been here… almost every free minute his thoughts strayed to his loud-mouthed friend and to how much fun they could have had with each other on this trip.

If he had had the choice he would have spent his time outside their room, out of Touya's oppressing company, at a nice place in the hotel, it even had a bar and large, comfortable leisure areas, but the reason that he couldn't had to do with the second person his age on the trip, which he despised even more than Touya: Mashiba.

How the blonde, nasty person had acquired a place on the trip – maybe he had threatened someone or bought his way in – Waya didn't even want to know.

But the problem was that Mashiba seemed to have taken an intense liking to torturing him by following him around the corridors wherever he went, and he never ceased to murmur snide comments of how he had recently beat Ochi in the prelims of the Meijin tournament, of how Waya would be next to fall before his power, and some especially nasty remarks about Isumi and others of his friends. For Waya it became increasingly difficult not to punch his fist immediately into Mashiba's ugly face.

Right now, he fortunately had some time to breathe as he walked down a wide corridor to the breakfast room. On the wall of the corridor there hang beautiful photographs and pictures and the other side of the wall, opposite them, consisted almost entirely of glass doors, reaching from top to bottom. They allowed a formidable view over softly rolling hills, covered in trees and snow, and small villages between or partly on them. For some seconds he stood and enjoyed the gaze into the distance, something that was possible in Tokyo only if you stood on a very high building.

Morning mist still held in the small valleys between the hills but as the sun was already rising well over the hilltops it was soon going to disband, like his calm morning mood.

With a sigh he tore his gaze from the view and proceeded to the breakfast room where a very silent, uncomfortable meal awaited him. Roommates were sat at the same table.

He felt more isolated and disappointed every passing minute.

* * *

The whole day the idea hadn't left his mind and now he was standing in front of the dinner buffet, thinking. He couldn't believe he was that desperate. The knot of anger in his chest told him he was. Which made him feel even angrier, more desperate. Waya simply hated to be alone, to have no one to talk to, but he had his pride too. With his plate generously filled with European specialities, whose names he had never cared to learn, he undecidedly stood at the end of the buffet table and morosely stared into the air.

_Would I rather spend the remaining days like the first three than to swallow my pride? _

With lips pressed in self-reproach, he shook his head and made his decision.

* * *

"Hey Touya…" he said, after having eaten some bites of something meaty tasting.

Surprised, Akira looked up from his book of English Grammar he read while eating, being thus addressed by no one other than Waya. His room-mate didn't sound very friendly, but at least he didn't bear that aggressive tension around his mouth.

"Yes?" Cautiously Akira nodded, closing his book and laying it aside. Being with Waya made Akira uneasy, because somehow he couldn't keep himself from expecting Waya insulting him again, suddenly, and without reason. Needless to say, he hated being uneasy.

Waya had finally decided to talk to Touya but suddenly he didn't know really what to say. He started with something easy.

"So… tell me…" he said, his voice sounding a bit strained, "Is Shindou really your rival?"

"What?" Akira was momentarily flabbergasted at Waya choice of conversation.

"If Shindou's your rival, I asked!" Waya impatiently repeated, his nerves with Touya already running thin. "Or are you too good to answer me, eh?"

Akira felt his lips tightening in anger and deliberately broke their eye contact to take another forkful of food. "I don't see how this concerns you," he answered coldly.

"Argh!" Akira looked up at Waya's guttural sound of frustration. He hit his fork violently in some innocent potato. "Stop being such an arrogant ass," he chided Touya, "Answer my question! I'm trying to be nice here!"

"You aren't doing well, then," Akira tartly commented. He finished his meal, stood up and left.

* * *

The next morning

Akira waited until Waya shortly looked up from the cereals he was stuffing in his mouth and caught his gaze.

"Er…Waya?" He asked, and hated himself for how weak his voice sounded. He wasn't doing well at keeping calm exposed to Waya's presence.

"Eh?" Waya halted in his eating, looking at Akira narrow-eyed. To him, Touya seemed to be as composed as always, looking disgutstingly well-groomed and awake despite the early hour. His morning-grumpiness instead was clearly visible on his face.

Akira hesitated, but then decided to go on and not let himself be intimidated by Waya's evident crossness. The red-haired's first step to establish a sort of communication between them had been a clumsy one, but he had tried. Akira could do that as well.

"Do you have any rival… er… rivals?"

Akira wouldn't know how to approach Waya, but copying his strategy seemed to be safe.

Waya tilted his head, looking at the uncomfortable Akira, to whom he seemed to be considering if he should answer at all… for much too long.

Akira fought to keep sitting still and calm.

"Well, yes…" Waya finally said, and Akira relaxed a bit, "I guess there's Isumi-san… but he's actually too much of a friend to be a real rival…" Akira nodded in relief that Waya did seem to accept his step towards communication, "And then there's Ochi."

Akira thought for a moment.

"Yes, Ochi would be about your level."

"I still have to get him back for the game he won at the Hokuto-Cup prelim!" Waya poked his spoon in his cereals, "And for that stupid move of playing against Yashiro!"

"Ochi excelled his own skill in that game, but Yashiro plays in another league." Akira explained.

Akira really hadn't intended to be insulting in any way and hadn't even sounded so, but Waya couldn't help hearing the words oozing with arrogance.

He gripped his spoon harder and said nothing more.

Akira inwardly sighed at his reaction and stared at him for a moment. Why should he have expected more of Waya? Because he had thought he wouldn't be so bad, being Shindou's friend?

He went back to studying his book.

* * *

It was about midnight when Waya roamed the hotel halls with irate strides. It had nothing to do with Touya this time, but the thought of having to face him when he went back to their room didn't do much to lighten his mood either.

After his teaching games today he had finally lost his nerves with Mashiba and had confronted the blonde pro about stalking him. Instead of answering, Mashiba had accused him with a spiteful grin of associating with snobs like Touya, who clearly presented a more lucrative chance for bootlicking than poor Isumi and his other worthless friends.

The urge to give Mashiba a facial rearrangement had almost been overwhelming. Just when he had been about to lash back at him, verbally of course, Mashiba had challenged him to a game. Waya, not having been able to think clear anymore, had immediately accepted.

Distracted by his ire, he'd had to abandon that game.

He tried to see if the hotel was opened at night, through a small door beside the main entrance he was able to pass outside.

A gush of clear cold air froze him in his steps, but only for a moment. Unflinching he went on, despite wearing nothing but his suit against the wintry temperatures that reigned outside, he relied on his considerable anger to keep him warm and fuel his steps.

For a moment he bent his neck and looked up at the sky. It seemed so much darker and wider here than at home. An almost full moon bathed scattered clouds and the snowy landscape in a milky light. From a pool of hot water from the spring outside the hotel, cloudy steam slowly rose. He stood for a moment, admiring the glittering stars, so numerous as he'd never seen before, before he turned his back at the hotel to walk off his anger.

At two o'clock he returned, his burning anger frozen down that only a slight frustration remained because the coldness numbed every molecule of his body. Every time he moved, his frozen suit rubbed painfully against his skin, the air stung in his face and with every breath he seemed to lose a bit of more warmth. His mind was unable to process any information other than cold - and the hot shower that awaited him in his room.

When he entered and saw that light was still on he suspected Touya having slept in reading or learning, or whatever it was he did. Quietly he stepped in, his thoughts reaching only as far as to taking off his icy suit and getting his hot shower.

"Where have you been?" a Touya Akira, wide awake, greeted him.

"Eh?" Waya's frozen brain found it hard to process information at this time of night, "You're still awake!"

"It's two o'clock," Touya pointed out, seemingly angry, "Where have you been?" He closed the book he had had lying on his lap and put it to the side, while fixing Waya with an accusing stare.

"That's none of your concern!" Waya bit back.

"It is!" Touya got out of his bed and faced him, a bit intimidating even in his pyjamas. "We've to get up at six for tomorrows special session!"

"What do you care what I do and when I'm punctual or not!" Waya barely could hinder himself shouting. But out of concern for his neighbours, both of their voices were only fervent whispers.

"I heard about that game with Mashiba!" Touya spat.

Waya blanched. He had hoped the news hadn't spread that fast!

"How could you lose to him!" The fact that Touya sounded as if that was a personal insult and that it seemed to be the real reason for his anger, took Waya completely flabbergasted and he stood his mouth open.

"Oh, shut up!" Waya hissed venomously when he had caught his senses. "As if you'd care," his voice was as sharp as a knife and Akira flinched, "Leave me alone with your presumtuous arrogance!"

On that he threw the jacked of his suit on a stool and stomped into the bathroom.

Akira tried to conceal the hurt showing in his eyes by an intense gaze until Waya disappeared.

* * *

Twenty minutes later Waya stepped out of the bathroom, rubbing down his hair with a towel, relaxed as he hadn't been in a very long time.

For a moment, his relaxation had reached a meditative summit that he didn't even mind having Touya in his room. Worldly feelings like anger or ill-humour simply lost importance when faced against such essential things as a long, hot shower after having nearly frozen to death.

He noticed that Touya was already sleeping deeply. And he had forgotten to switch off his nightstand lamp. Waya wouldn't want to let it burn the whole night, so he went over and was about to turn it off himself, when out of simple, sleepy curiosity he picked up the book Touya had read. He flapped through it, concluding from the signs it was Korean, he couldn't read one word. There were notes on almost every page in what would be Touya's handwriting. It looked like the scrawl of any other student.

_Hmm…_ he looked at the top of the page on which Touya's bookmark was. _The date says November. _He skimmed around, finding more dates. _He is more than two weeks behind… probably has missed some lessons due to pro games._ He found the same evidence in Touya's Chinese book even if there, he was not as far behind. _Maybe Touya's not really that arrogant,_ Waya thought, _maybe he's just stressed. I definitely would be, with a work load like that… _He let his gaze wander about the books; Korean, Chinese, English and of course the obligatory kifu collections in preparation for his games.

Before he could feel any compassion towards Touya he went to bed. Touya was still as conceited an ass as nobody else could be.

* * *

The next day, Waya woke up shortly as Touya left the room. He blinked against the light that Touya had switched on, for at six o'clock it was still dark outside. Without a second thought he then turned around and slept on.

Much later he awoke, feeling happy. Sunlight glared at him through the window and he squinted against it. He turned and looked at the clock. About midday.

With a jump, he awoke completely, his heartbeat accelerating from a comfortable sleepy bumping to a hysteric flutter.

Today was the special session- at six.Today _had been _the special session .

Panically he jumped into his clothes, rushed through his washing-routine, worrying deeply about how the organisator would take his 'lateness' which was beyond any unpunctuality. Were there any severe punishments for Go pros on seminaries in the foreign? Could he probably be sent home?

He tried not to look too worried when he strode down the corridor to the seminary rooms. Or were they already going to lunch?

He heartily wished there was a hiding place somewhere near. Maybe in the swimming pool? He could drown and so spare himself the shame of missing one of the most important events on the trip. Or he could simply hide in his room. No, they would surely seek him out there. Actually, he wondered why nobody had sought him out there yet.

He neared the seminary rooms. An imposing figure came striding towards him. The considerable belly unmistakably belonged to Mizokushi-sensei.

Could he still sneak into a nearby corridor undetected?

"Waya-kun!" Mizokushi-sensei called out to him.

Waya jerked and tensed up.

"Sensei," he said weakly. "I…" he started to apologize, while thinking what apologies could probably make up the mess he had surely made.

"Is your stomach any better?" the older Pro boomed out, not even letting Waya start to begin stuttering.

"Eh?" Waya couldn't conceal his surprise, but Mizokushi-sensei didn't seem to notice.

"Touya-kun told me this morning that you were unable to attend because you had your stomach poisoned with some of this European food. That's quite normal," he laughed unpleasantly loud, but benevolently "you never know what these foreigners feed you. I had some bad digestion yesterday too. Just take care what you eat at lunch!" Then the organisator left him standing there.

"I will, sensei…" Waya was able to stammer out, trying to gather his senses together.

_Touya_ had covered him? Touya had covered him! How? Why?

Of course, it would cast a bad light on the black-haired pro as well, if his roommate had been late, or didn't appear to the special-session.

But he could simply have woken him up.

Completely puzzled by the behaviour of his roommate he still felt the intense relief of escaping a punishment, making his heart beat faster.

He continued the corridor down to the dining room.

Why had Touya defended him?

He shook his head.

When he heard a raspy, mean voice that sounded out of a side corridor the hunger in his stomach turned to sickness. Mashiba. And from the tone of his voice he was bullying someone. How could he?

He quickened his stride.

"…evidently don't see… how to treat people…!" Mashiba was about to say as Waya neared to corner. Waya unfortunately, (or fortunately, because he liked to keep his contact with the unpleasant pro to a minimum), didn't catch it wholly.

"I… What do you mean?" A clear, soft voice answered. If it hadn't had that quivering touch, Waya could have sworn it was Touya's. He turned the corner.

"You can't always keep running to Daddy… you think you can get everything just because your Dad _was_ famous. But you're nothing. People just always flatter you, because they are too afraid of him…"

"What do you want from me?" It _was_ Touya. Waya recognised his slender form pressed against a wall and that awful, childish hair style of his immediately. And Mashiba towering in front of him.

Since when was Touya that small? Waya thought, he didn't seem so usually.

"I don't think you play as well as everyone says. Remember, I almost beat you in the pro exam!" Waya recognised Mashiba usual and very effective bullying voice that rendered even him slightly uncertain.

But it too achieved to raise his temper within seconds. Like now. Heat boiled in the pits of his stomach, and he had to clench his fist to not hit the other immediately in his nasty face. But what really worried him most was that Touya seemed helpless. Wide-eyed he looked at Mashiba and didn't even notice Waya hasting towards them.

"Ah… I…" he stuttered uncertainly. Before he could say more, Waya angrily called out: "Heh, Touya, what are you doing? We've to get lunch!"

Touya jerked and looked a Waya like a child caught by his parents.

And suddenly he seemed to remember where, and more importantly, who, he was. He straightened up and resumed his usual coolness.

"Mashiba-san," his voice was icy, marking his polite words a farce, "it was very pleasant talking to you, but you'll excuse me, I have to go. We surely shall speak again."

With a contemptuous glance, hiding his insecurities as well as any actor, he turned and joined Waya on his quick stride out of the corridor to the dining room.

Two against one, Mashiba didn't follow them.

* * *

"What the hell did you think you were doing, getting all beaten up by Mashiba, of all people?" Waya almost shouted, angrily, halting before opening the doors to the dining room, so not everybody would hear them.

Touya who had been about to thank Waya, tensed and his gaze hardened. "I was surprised, that's all," he explained haughtily. "I was perfectly able to take care of that situation myself!"

"Of course." Waya answered sarcastically, satisfied at earning an irate stare of Touya. "What were you talking to him for anyway?"

"He bullied some of the weaker European players!" Akira said, his mouth twisting in dislike.

"I confronted him about it!"

"And got yourself bullied instead! Great success!" Waya's voice dripped with sarcasm.

Touya's eyes were blazing.

"I would have, if you hadn't interrupted!" the black-haired young man insisted coldly.

"I was only paying the back the favour from this morning!" his roommate bit back.

"Did you think I would have needed you meddling in my affairs! Ha!" He added a sharp, humourless, laugh.

They hatefully stared at each other for several seconds, both hurt by each other's word but too proud to admit it.

Contemptuously Touya swivelled towards the dining room door and Waya folled staring the other down from behind.

When Waya picked up a plate, he forced himself to calm down in order to keep himself from smashing it at the floor. He helped himself to several different dishes from the buffet.

Touya had taken a bowl and filled a sickly-looking, thick, greenish soup into it. Suitable choice, Waya thought.

At the table – with Touya again - Waya picked up some food without any appetite and chewed at it without tasting anything.

He noticed that Touya hadn't even taken any soup yet, he kept stirring it absent-mindedly, his gaze lowered, maybe looking at the soup, maybe at nothing, it wasn't easy to see with his hair hanging forward and shadowing his face.

So they sat, several minutes.

"I…" Akira suddenly started.

Waya instantly looked up at him, as if, Akira thought, he had only waited for him to start speaking.

When he didn't continue, Waya cocked his head.

"You…?" His voice was cold.

Touya's gaze that met his was defiant, but there was a lot of pride in his terse countenance.

_That's at least something we have in common_, Waya thought drily, _some kind of insurmountable pride. _

"I…," Akira started again, his polite education overcoming his difficulties, "I probably have …overreacted."

"Yeah… you have…" Waya, not nearly as politely, agreed.

Instantly he sensed Touya bristling.

"But…" he grimly admitted, "Me too."

They both immediately looked away, suddenly deeply interested in their food.

* * *

Waya didn't talk to Touya for the rest of day, but the feeling that remained from their almost-apologies at lunch was that they – or at least it him it seemed so – had reached a stage of an uncertain ceasefire.

In the evening, he was glad to receive a message from Nase.

He could vividly imagining her in Tokyo, as she went from her Goban to the small table near the exit where the white sheet, imprinted with names, lay.

_The winner notes the result._

'_Adachi lost against Komiya. I still have a chance.'_

He couldn't prevent a relieved smile.

* * *

A/N: If you liked it, please review! 


	5. Chapter 1, Part III

A/N: Thanks to all my readers and reviewers! I hope you'll continue liking this story!

Enjoy reading!

My thanks to BlackWingedGabriel for betaing!

* * *

**Chapter 1. Part III**

The café-like room, where most of the leisure games and many of the Shidou-Go games took place, was still dimly lit. On many tables there stood a Goban with two bowls of stones resting on it. It was as if each wooden board was being the witness of the countless games played and now resting.

In the corner of the room Waya finally found what he was looking for. A Goban with a game on it. He strode over, dodging between the small tables and their comfortable chairs.

"I thought I'd find you here," he said to the lonesome figure sitting cross-legged on a cushioned bench for the table near the wall. It was a place chosen to survey the whole room and to see out of the large panorama doors that led to a huge terrace. During the daytime it showed a formidable view outside. Now there was only darkness and the cold flakes of a howling snowstorm. When the snow was blown near the doors weak light from inside made it sparkle.

"It's miserably cold in our room," he continued and dropped down in the padded chair across his roommate. He noticed that the other wore a plain dark-grey sweat suit over his pyjama.

With a deliberate movement that told Waya that Touya must have heard him come in, Touya looked up from recreating a game.

"I already told the manager that the radiator has broken down. She promised to immediately see to that."

"Yeah, I noticed, they, the workers, are still in our room. They tried to tell me something, but I didn't understand because their English was worse than mine." Waya yawned, "Well, it doesn't matter anyway, it's only twelve o'clock. In the seminary room there are still a couple of freaks playing."

Waya helped himself to one of the cups that stood piled on the table and poured in some coffee Akira had quietly offered. They weren't still very friendly with each other, but a shaky peace had settled between them in the few days since the Mashiba incident. Taking some sips of the cup and afterwards warming his fingers, still cold from being in his room, around it, Waya leaned a little nearer to the game Akira had been recreating. He still wasn't interested in anything Touya might ever do, but he couldn't resist looking at a game of Go. Trade disease, he guessed.

_It seems familiar…_ he thought and scanned the game more intently.

Akira noticed his gaze and answered his unspoken question, a simple courtesy between Go-players who had nothing else in common. "Morishita 9-Dan is white against Ashiwara 5-Dan from my father's study group playing black in the second round of the third prelim of the Tengen tournament."

Waya studied the proportions of the not quite finished game. He actually knew the outcome, Sensei had proudly told them all in the study group of his victory against Ashiwara of Touya's rivalling study group.

"I play Morishita-sensei in the third round for the accession of the Tengen league next week," Touya added as an explanation as if he needed an excuse for studying the play of Waya's teacher.

"Sensei's becoming ambitious again," Waya murmured.

Akira placed several more stones. "It's an interesting game," he said, "I especially like the formation of this group over there," he indicated at the lower left corner, "Ashiwara's attack was beautiful and courageous, but white's defence was too powerful. Morishita-sensei even gained territory."

"Black's attack was lacking the strength to back up his strategy," Waya agreed, taking Touya's invitation. "If he had played here, for example…" he shifted several stones to the side in order to have access to the pattern with which the form had been begun. He put a black stone in a slightly altered position.

Akira answered and suddenly, without noticing, they launched into a game discussion where all of their animosity was pushed aside. They were Go pros, discussing a game, and everything else became insignificant for the moment.

Surprised, Akira found that Waya's understanding of the game was in some ways much deeper than Shindou's, which he wouldn't have expected from the rather weak game the other had played against him recently. It was as if Waya, like him, had somehow absorbed the fundamentals, the meaning of this game into his very being. Shindou loved the game with all his heart, but unlike Waya and Akira had learned to play very late and lacked the special bonding and knowledge only years of dedication could bring.

The night went on and they discussed several other of Waya's Sensei's kifu Touya had with him. And Waya realised that he could learn a lot from Touya, concerning his Sensei's Go. He even forgot that he, having been Morishita's student for years, should know a lot more about his Sensei's playing style than Touya, who had only studied him the last few days, and he forgot that this fact should piss him off, as it usually did. He forgot simply because he was being entirely carried off by his excitement at the knowledge in Touya's calm words. He realised that he suddenly began to discover layers upon layers of deeper meaning in the strategies he had become taught by Morishita for years. Was it because of Touya's cool eloquence that he understood him better than he had his impatient teacher?

"Hey Touya," Waya asked, despite the late hour wide awake, "want to play a game?"

It would be a good preparation for his game against Morishita-sensei if he played his student, Akira decided.

"Yes, of course." He cleared the kifu from the board, and put out several white stones to nigiri.

"Please."

"Please."

And Waya experienced again how it was to be completely crushed by Touya. As much as he tried hard to defy him, he was barely holding on. Somewhere in the middle of game, Touya suddenly interrupted.

"You'll never beat Ochi if you play hands like that!" His sharp tone made Waya bristle instantly. Maybe their peace had just been an illusion.

"As if you'd care!"

"Ochi will play here," Akira said, placing a stone, "and five hands later, you'll be cut off over there." He was too absorbed by the game to notice Waya's anger and newly arisen dislike. "Your moves are far too obvious to be of any use. If you can't think of anything better, you can give up right now."

_I hate you, Touya!_ Waya thought, but his ire fired by Touya's accusations, instead of spending his energy on hating Akira, he concentrated all his fury on finding an escape from his bad situation. After many a minute of thought, he slammed a stone on the board.

"That would be better," Akira said so softly that Waya almost bristled again, just _because_, "against Ochi, it might work." He calmly placed a stone.

"I have nothing." Waya ground out, fuming.

Two games and subsequent discussions later, Waya was ready to admit that he was really and entirely helpless against Touya. He had ceased to be intimidated by Touya's reputation – because Touya surpassed it - and he had ceased to hate the other – because he had no time trying to survive in the game. Instead he concentrated on his anger - still very present after Touya's former words – and used it to concentrate his attacks on the board. He played better those next times, but he still had nothing.

The discussions afterwards were a shockingly frustrating experience for him, but nevertheless he sucked in Touya's words and explanations like a dehydrated man would thirst after a glass of water.

He buried his pride deeply for the moment being, because he would take every means to advance as a Go pro.

After the discussion his head felt like it was about to explode, full of Touya's strategies and thoughts. They were simple enough, one by one, but combined they consisted such a complex pattern with so many variations that he had forgotten half of them already.

"I'm exhausted," he groaned, leaning back in his chair, leaving it to Akira to sort the stones apart. "Let's do something else."

After a certain time of silence, Akira said:

"Everyone has to find his own style of Go. What is important is to stay true to yourself by all means and to keep your personality and your Go balanced in each other."

Waya perked up from his slouch.

"Why are you telling me this?" he asked, his eyes narrowed suspiciously as his pride resurfaced.

Akira ignored his question.

"Some people achieve it by a complete concord of character and Go," he explained, "some people by playing a Go that's the exact opposite of their character."

Waya hesitated for a few seconds, trying to think.

"Are insulting me again!" and before Akira could start to answer, he interrupted him by standing up and saying,"Of course you are!"

He turned and stormed out of the room.

"I wasn't… I only…" Akira called after him, "Waya, wait!"

Dismayed Akira stared at the closed door through which Waya had left.

Waya was similar to Shindou, he would surely come back, wouldn't he?

* * *

"Hey Waya," Mashiba interrupted Waya early in the evening of their last day. "Do you want to lose another game against me? I even beat Ochi, your _rival_," –don't punch him! Waya reminded himself, not even for eavesdropping on you - "in our last Oteai game." 

"That was because Ochi had a fever of thirty-nine degrees," Waya retorted angrily, "Let's play! I'm ready to beat you anytime."

Mashiba laughed dirtily, reminding everyone of Waya's recent defeat against him.

* * *

Halfway into the game and Waya knew he was playing absolutely dreadful. One look at Mashiba's gel-slimed hair and he wanted to tear it out one by one. 

He played his next move and as soon as the stone landed on the board he perceived his mistake. _I've been attacking when I should have been expanding my territory instead! Damn! I made so many mistakes already! I'm not trying to win hard enough! _

He almost growled as he stared at Mashiba with flaming eyes, daring him to exploit his weakness.

_If Touya saw that…_ Waya started to think and instinctively looked around to make sure Touya wasn't… -

He jumped when he saw that Touya _was_ watching.

Waya guiltily ducked his head between his shoulders - all his heavy mistakes today had been things Touya had warned him to _especially_ keep in mind - trying to seem as if he hadn't seen the very calm Touya looking at his miserable game.

Calm…

He breathed deeply several times.

If he kept burning with anger like that, he would lose.

He had to stay calm to win.

_Keep calm…_

Slowly the patterns on the bord changed from a writhing mass of black and white worms to two deadly snakes wound around each other. He knew his situation was dangerous, but suddenly the path seemed clear. If he didn't attack anymore, then he could…

_Was that what Touya had meant? _He pondered, _I'm always trying to play aggressively, because Morishita-sensei taught me to. But if I with my rather heated personality… I rather had to play calm..._

He cast a grim look at a Touya who contemplated only the game.

_Now I understand what you were trying to tell me!_

_Morishita-sensei has an irascible personality and so it is logical his Go should be fiery. But Touya… you are so calm that you're almost shy, your Go instead, it's fearfully aggressive. _

What if the opposite counted for him too?

* * *

The day of their departure, in the morning, Waya stumbled, half-sleeping, into the bathroom. He was feeling hang-overly, because yesterday night they had together celebrated their good-bye from Europe in due length. 

Touya was in the small room, standing in front of the mirror. Waya had been so sleepy he hadn't even noticed his roommate getting up.

But Touya wasn't in best shape either, Waya thought with an evil grin, mollified.

It was a fine view, Touya Akira fighting with a comb against some persistent knots in his hair and trying to keep his hang-over headache at bay at the same time. His face was screwed up in a mask of intense annoyance. In his twisted lips and narrowed eyes Waya could see all the curses Akira _didn't_ utter.

"You could get a decent hairstyle for a change," Waya advised him.

Akira fixed him with a grumpy gaze.

"And you could brush your hair once, for a change."

They stared at each other for some moments and became uneasy.

Then, suddenly they started to laugh - and Waya couldn't tell who had begun.

* * *

Finally in the plane, after a long and tedious journey to the airport, Waya was so tired that he could barely keep his eyes open. He only so managed to close his seatbelt with his eyes half closed. 

Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Touya beside him, looking equally tired than him, if not more so, taking out one of his books filled with linguistic mysteries and starting to study.

"Just make sure you one day don't crack under all that workload, it's not healthy," Waya mumbled.

"I don't mind learning," Akira answered. "It won't be too much."

"If you say so…" Waya didn't sound convinced, but said nothing more.

The message on the cell phone in his pocket of Nase's next win was enough to ensure a happy sleep for him.

* * *

A/N: If you liked it, please review! 


	6. Chapter 1, Part IV

A/N: Thanks to all my reviewers! You don't know how much your words mean to me!

And thanks to BlackWingedGabriel for beta-ing ! (the first two scenes were added after betaing, as several other sentences, any mistakes are my own fault!)

Anyway, enjoy reading! This is the last part of Chapter 1.

* * *

**Chapter 1. Part IV**

Slowly Hikaru separated the black and white stones that lay distributed over the Goban. With a practised, careful movement he collected first the white, then the black stones into their respective bowls.

The door was pushed aside and his head snapped up, like the last fifteen times when somebody had come to or left from Touya's Go salon. The temporary receptionist, who stood in for Ichikawa, welcomed a customer, unknown to him.

Hikaru frowned and leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms.

"Are you still waiting?" inquired Kitajima-san in a rather rude voice. He sat several tables farther, playing with Hirose-san.

Hikaru straightened and glared at Kitajima. "Of course I am. As I told you at least twenty times already!" he snapped impatiently.

"And I told you the young Sensei won't come, because he's only returning from Europe today!" Kitajima almost shouted, as if Hikaru waiting for Touya were an insult to his admired Sensei.

"He'll come!" Hikaru shouted back.

Several head in the Go salon turned at the sound.

"He won't!" Kitajima insisted.

The heads turned back. They had heard this conversation already.

Hikaru narrowed his eyes. "There are only a few months until the next Hokuto-Cup. We've got to train up, unless that escaped you attention!"

"But not today! Sensei'll need rest from his journey!"

Hikaru turned away from Kitajima, and back to facing his Goban. He opened the two bowls of stones standing beside it.

"Touya'll come," he said. He laid several stones on the board. He couldn't remember the how-muchest kifu he would be recreating; he had stopped paying attention to count and game after the third one.

More to himself, he murmured. "He'll come. I'm his rival, I should know."

But his normally unwavering sureness had begun crumbling after his talk with Waya not so long ago.

_Why am I here then?_ He thought, _Wasting my time when I don't even know Touya's coming? _

_Only because I _believe_ he's coming?_

He snorted and slammed a stone on the board.

_No, because I need to be sure._

* * *

The little car dashed from the airport towards Tokyo. Ichikawa knew she was an excellent driver, so she dodged between cars to get back faster. 

"Thank you for taking Kiki while I was in Europe, Ichikawa-san," her little Akira said politely after they had been driving several minutes.

"It was my pleasure," she answered with a smile, "She's a really sweet kitty!"

"You didn't tell my parents about her, did you?" His voice was urgent, and she slowed down in a column of cars.

"They don't know!" Apart from most of his Shindou-affairs she didn't think he had ever kept anything from his parents, especially not from his father. So why…? With a start she realised her 'little Akira' was sixteen.

"No…" Out of the corner of her eye she saw him shaking his head, while she tried to keep her attention at the traffic. "I didn't dare tell them yet."

Ichikawa veered out of her row of cars to the right where she speeded up until she threaded back in.

"I don't know how I should tell father that the favourite playthings of Kiki are our Go stones. Some of them already have scratches on them."

He sighed.

"And how I shall tell him that her preferred sleeping place is his favourite Goban…?"

"Oh…" Ichikawa slowed down immediately as the car before her stopped abruptly. "And what will you do about that?"

"Well," Akira said, "I don't care what problems she makes." His voice was full with the calm determination she so admired at him. "I won't give her away no matter what he says!"

She searched his face for a moment. Somehow caught on the brink between boy and man, his face held features of none of them, yet of both. His jaw line, nose and cheeks had become sharp, like his father's, but still there was some youthful softness in his face. His dark eyes held more of the kind roundness of his mother's, and the change was most noticeably in them; sometimes looking so mature, sometimes still so vulnerable and young.

_He doesn't want to be alone at home anymore, _she realised when he told her about keeping the little cat.

"Something about you is changed," she said pensively.

"Ah. Your hair has gotten longer. You need to get a haircut."

Akira looked at her. "I'm trying to grow it."

"What!"

Akira smiled a gentle smile at her outcry and she calmed down.

"What?" she asked again.

"I'm growing my hair," he confirmed.

She stared at him wide-eyed.

"Ichikawa-san," Akira tilted his head, smiling uneasily at her scrutinizing look. "I can barely go winning a title looking like a first grader…"

Ichikawa blinked several times and sat back up, relaxing her seatbelt. She frowned. She would hate her little Akira, losing his cute looks, but… "So why don't you simply cut it?"

He grinned sheepishly. "I'd look too much like father."

"Oh…"

The traffic light turned green and she had to continue dodging her way forward.

She heard Akira yawning. Maybe he wouldn't look so bad with long hair…

"So tell me," he asked her sleepily, „What happened while I was away?"

"Oh, nothing much…" She tried to recall the two past weeks while concentrating on not getting too close to the ugly red car before her. "An old school colleague of Shindou came by. A charming person…

"He didn't want to stay, though," she added, "without Shindou there. But he said, he'd come back." She smiled.

Akira chuckled lowly and closed his eyes.

When he opened them again, most of their journey had already passed and he found his sleepy eyes looking at familiar streets. He noticed where Ichikawa was aiming to drive to, and said, "We should rather take the next junction."

"Bu-But," Ichikawa stuttered, "I thought I'd bring you home! You're surely very tired and exhausted!"

"It doesn't matter," he says, "There's something I've got to do."

Ichikawa capitulated before her little boy's stubbornness.

"To the Go salon, then," she sighed. "You believe Shindou will be there?"

* * *

Tuesday afternoon, Morishita-sensei's study group 

Waya kneeled on the pillow on the floor, leaning slightly forward, his hands resting on his knees. Only in the back of his mind was he aware of Shindou and Saeki playing a game too. And of Shirakawa who was the only one watching his game and noticed Morishita-sensei sweating heavily as he was busy fighting Waya's newfound calmness.

_I still make many mistakes_, Waya noticed absent-mindedly, but at the moment his play had taken Morishita-sensei by surprise and that was to his advantage.

A pearl of sweat ran into his eyes, and without his concentrated glance at the board wavering, he swept it away with a sleeve.

He won by two and a half moku. A breath of relief eased the tension from his muscles.

"Waya, you haven't played me that well in a very long time!" Morishita-sensei growled loudly. "I knew that playing the Europeans and the change of place would be good for you to develop your skills!"

Morishita continued to praise himself for his good decision to send Waya to Europe. And followed with his usual monologue that a certain study-group was a must to beat. Waya stopped listening.

_I can hardly tell him that I learned all that from Touya Akira, the Enemy himself, _Waya thought, _who beat him in last week's game._ _But I'm proud too, _he sat straighter and smiled, at everyone and no one in special, _it was my very first time beating Sensei._

_I hope Nase does as well in her games._

* * *

Asumi Nase was the first in the game room this morning, trying to get her senses together. She thought of Waya, whose mother also hadn't been a very easy person, but, since he had been a boy, had mostly kept out of his affairs. 

She tried to push all her worries out of her mind by concentrating only on the beautiful wooden boards, equally distributed around the room. No other players were here yet and she was glad for the almost meditative silence that hung in the still air.

She breathed deeply several times.

Only three games to go. She had two of the best players still to face, her 'rival' Adachi only one. But if she played her best and kept calm, if she managed to not let her worries approach her, she should be able to win. Waya believed in her.

School was getting more oppressive every day, her mother complained about her marks, but if she managed to win, all that would be over.

If only she would win.

The dread of what would happen if not slowly crept into her thoughts. It was her last exam.

She shook her head violently to chase the doubts away.

Another player entered the room.

She straightened up in her kneeling position, facing the room clear headed.

Whatever would happen, should she pass or fail, she'd do it with pride. No one could take that from her.

* * *

After a hard fight Waya won his Wednesday game against a rather strong four-Dan. He got up from his place and went out to note his result on the game board. He stretched, his hands over his head, feeling well like a cat. 

Strolling around in the entrance hall for some time, he read notices on the board, waited for Isumi, or Shindou or maybe Saeki, if they arrived in a sensible time.

Suddenly the elevator bell rang and he watched a pro, unknown to him, rushing through the hall and out of the doors. The characteristic bent back of a defeat.

The bell rang again and Waya was only marginally surprised when a serious young man with a disgraceful hairstyle appeared, solitarily as always.

It took Waya only a second to decide.

He still hadn't a clue what Touya was thinking, he didn't understand his sometimes weird and overly mature behaviour, he was puzzled by his willingness to put as much stress as possible on himself, but…

"Hey, Touya," he held the other pro back, as he strode out of the elevator.

"Waya," Touya was his usual cool and collected self, but seemed in no haste to get away.

"I hold a study group at my apartment on Saturday. Do you mind coming?" As an additional appetizer, for he wasn't sure how much Touya really cared for his presence, or his Go, he added. "Shindou's coming too."

* * *

Saturday 

With effort Hikaru fought his way out of the crowded train. As he stepped onto the platform, he suddenly stopped dead.  
"Wah!" he exclaimed loudly and, shocked, inhaled the dusty, dirty air of the metro station. Several of the persons around him, whose ears he had offended, scowled disapprovingly at him, but he didn't even notice. He only saw one other person who was the last he would have expected to get off the same train as he.

"Oi, Touya!" he called, "What are you doing here!"

He dodged his way through the people to approach his rival. There was nothing of interest in the neighbourhood where Waya lived, so what did Touya do here? Was he probably giving some Shidou-Go lessons? But what a coincidence: at the same place at the same time!

"I'm attending Waya's study group," Touya answered.

"What!"

Touya visibly had to suppress a grin at Hikaru's stupefied expression.

"As I believe you're doing too, " he added.

"Well… yes…" Hikaru stuttered. Touya in Waya's study group? How? Why? He gathered his wits and pushed his confused thoughts out of his mind. What did it matter? All that counted was that he could play Touya more.

A wide grin appeared on his face. "But that's cool!"

Touya didn't so much as lift an eyebrow, but Hikaru meant to see him looking pleased too.

* * *

"Where's Nase?" With a surprised glance, Shinichiro Isumi scanned the group of people sitting in Waya's apartment for the study group. There were Waya, Saeki, Sawasaki, and Shindou. Ochi and Honda who usually were here couldn't come today. 

And then there was the new one since last Saturday, Touya Akira. He still had to get used to _that_ idea. Considering the way Waya had always hated Touya, it was a disconcerting change of mind for him to suddenly invite him to his study group. As he sat down, Isumi stole a sidelong glance at his red-haired friend who was busy entertaining Saeki with an anecdote from Europe. Waya hadn't talked much to Touya, that was true, but neither did he seem very ill-disposed.

Concerning Go, Isumi thought, Touya was the best addition their study group could ever hope for. Plus, Touya's calm character in addition to his own was a much needed compensation to the rather loud Waya, Shindou and Saeki.

He just didn't understand why. What had happened to make Waya _invite_ Touya, and made Touya, whom he thought had no reason of even talking to Waya after the behaviour he had displayed towards him, _accept_ the invitation? Waya had told him about his trip to Europe, of course, but rarely had he mentioned Touya at all. Nevertheless, or rather because of that, Isumi knew that something must have happened between them. How else could Waya explain his sudden change in behaviour? Waya had kept back when telling him, so Isumi suspected that it was because he wanted to avoid these questions.

Isumi helped himself to a glass of juice that stood, in his opinion, far too close to the Goban – unclosed. He would ask Waya later.

"Nase?" Waya almost jumped when he heard the name.

"What about her?" Isumi repeated, frowning at his friend's reaction. "Didn't she want to come today?"

Waya faintly looked at him for a moment.

"Yeah, where's Nase?" Shindou interrupted. "Is she late again?"

Waya hesitated.

"Nase?" Touya echoed the name with a slight frown, trying to remember something lost in the mental haze of his last, drunken, night in Europe, "That's that girl you have a crush on, isn't she?"

Waya forgot what he had been about to say when he heard Touya addressing him. Everyone else, too.

Suddenly the only sound in the room was the agitated conversation of the neighbouring couple reaching through the walls.

Touya blushed slightly, sheepishly realising his mistake. But it was Waya whose face started to glow crimson as every pair of eyes transfixed him.

"Touya," Waya growled, impaling Touya on a violent stare, "Shut up!"

Saeki was the first to start laughing.

* * *

Isumi shook his head in annoyance as the volume at the other Goban grew louder - again. They had barely managed to keep quiet for half an hour. 

"How _could_ you play that?" A visibly angry Touya growled at a nonchalantly looking Shindou.

"Look closer and _think_!" Shindou raised his voice over the others.

"I just wonder what _you_ were thinking!" Touya almost yelled now, beginning to forget himself and where he was. Isumi wondered if he had badly misjudged Touya's character. Calm?

"More than you, evidently!" Shindou now openly shouted. Isumi wouldn't have guessed that the blonde-bleached pro possessed that loud a voice.

"Can't you see how much I'm already ahead due to your stupid non-strategy!" Touya yelled, "How could you go there with that move!" Indignantly he indicated at the offending hand. He made it sound like an unforgivable crime. Isumi hadn't seen their game, but from where he sat, the hand looked rather normal.

"Open your eyes!" Shindou emphasized his loud words with a deadly glare, not at all intimidated or perturbed by Touya's imposing attitude, "If you weren't so fixed on that area, you'd clearly…"

Isumi considered covering his ears with his hand, when Touya's haughty interruption was drowned in Hikaru's retort as the opponents tried to out yell each other.

They didn't come far though, and they jumped when an even louder voice tore the quarrel apart.

With suddenness, like a can of cold water emptied over their heads, they shut up.

"STOP!" Waya shouted, having jumped up from the floor of his apartment, gesticulating wildly. "STOP IT! You both!"

With a small smile Isumi noticed that their embarrassed looks immediately changed to still extremely fiery when they passed each other's.

"We thank you very much for your _competent_ and _valuable," _Waya stressed the words with cold displeasure, that even over Isumi's back a cold shiver ran, "contribution, but," his voice grew more heated and his words came faster, "if you can't keep acting like normal people, and not like immature first graders, go stand in front of the door until you have cooled down!"

"But Waya…" Shindou wailed. Touya only looked at the Goban, his cheeks displaying a warm shade of rose.

"I warned you last time! And the time before! And before!" Waya pointed his finger at the door, "OUT!"

Isumi as well as Saeki and Honda managed to keep a straight, stern face, when Shindou pleadingly looked at them.

As soon as the door closed, the furious mask dropped from Waya's face. A second of glances passed from him to Isumi and the others. Then they all burst out laughing.

Protests from outside the door were drowned in the merry noise inside.

* * *

When the laughter had long died down and the study-group ended, only Isumi remained for another game. Smiling, Waya remembered, "Those two… Shindou and Touya," he shook his head. 

Isumi laughed softly.

"That's what you call a shameless rivalry…!"

"Haha… I wonder how I could have ever doubted they be rivals!"

They chuckled and then shared their dinner in silence.

"Can I ask you something, Waya?" Isumi asked.

"Sure," Waya frowned, "Why do you even ask?"

Isumi leaned forward, curiosity shining in his eyes. "What happened in Europe between you and Touya?"

Waya's face remained blank for some moments.

"What!"

Isumi grinned ambiguously.

Waya started to splutter until he realised that his best friend was teasing him.

"I realised that Touya isn't as arrogant as I believed him to be," he admitted. Isumi raised an eyebrow, and Waya smiled. "And his Go's better than I believed!"

"Huh?"

Isumi frowned at his friend, disbelief in his voice, "First you hate Touya, because he's good. Then you learn he's even better, and you start to like him?"

A feeling of worry and beginnings of slight panic shone through Isumi's voice.

Waya blinked several times. Then he laughed.

"If you put it like that… yes, I do!"

Isumi looked at him in bewilderment and shook his head.

"I keep wondering how on earth you managed to pass pro with that kind of logic…"

Waya caught his friend's murmured response and laughed out loud.

"Yeah, I was surprised myself…" he said.

And then, as he calmed down and grew serious, he added, "But don't you think, too, that he seems lonely sometimes?"

Isumi looked at his friend in surprise. Waya didn't let it shine through often that he actually was as a very considerate and amicable person.

"Yes, I suppose," he answered slowly. "Considering how he grew up…" Isumi once had read an article about Touya father and son in the 'Weekly Go', "But I hope he isn't anymore, with Shindou around, and now us…"

They played a game of Go, without the need of talking to each other. When they had finished, Isumi softly asked, "And what about Nase?"

"What about her?" Waya tried to sound cool, but failed.

"What never was will never be. She has chosen to part ways…"

"But…" Isumi asked in a low voice.

"She wrote me a message after her game," Waya's voice sounded weak and he leaned his head against the wall, closing his eyes against the tears forming in them. "She played so brilliantly sometimes…"

"Yes," Isumi agreed, "She even used to beat me. But she's a sensitive girl…" Isumi started.

"…and easily distraught by life outside of Go." Waya softly completed the sentence. He pressed his eyelids together, his brow furrowing in anguish. "'_I'm not worthy of fulfilling this dream of mine…' _she wrote me, _'I failed.'"_

Finally a tear rolled down Waya's cheek and Isumi lowered his eyes against the pain in his best friend's face. He couldn't escape his strangled voice, however, and he too was sorrowful at the loss of a very good friend.

"'_Thank you for your support,'_ she said, and _'Farewell.'_"

* * *

End of Chapter 1

* * *

A/N: If you liked it, please review!

* * *

A/N: Something else to only those who are interested at this kind of thing. There'sa question I want to ask as writer, if you want to answer. Please don't feel compelled to do, anyone. Only if you really, really want to.  
I wanted to know what impression you got from Nase's part in this chapter. Did you suspect from it if she would pass or fail? Or was it clear she would fail? I'd like to know what effect this scene had, if it had any at all. ( After all, I need to know if I want to improve!)  
I don't mind if no one wants to answer, but I would appreciate every help!

**Thank you all for reading!**

* * *


	7. Chapter 2, Part I

Disclaimer: I don't own Hikago

A/N: Many thanks to all my reviewers. Your words really keep me motivated! I hope you'll like this chapter as well!

Many thanks to BlackWingedGabriel for betaing this chapter again.

Enjoy reading!

* * *

**Chapter 2. Part I **

"You're playing strange today." Hikaru surveyed the game after Touya's hand for some time.

"Ah? How so?" Touya's gaze never left the board.

"As if you didn't know what you wanted."

Touya looked up at Hikaru's puzzled voice, his usually smooth brow slightly furrowed.

"I don't think so. Of course I want to win."

A few pearls of sweat were visible on his forehead, because not even the air-conditioner of the Go salon was able to fight against the August heat.

Before Hikaru could say any more, "The young sensei made it to the Honinbo league last week!" Kitajima-san, Touya's greatest fan, cut in acidly, "Stop bothering him with your inapt comments!"

"Bah!" Hikaru retorted with a neglecting gesture of hand, "My last game for the accession of the Honinbo league is tomorrow. I won't fail. And then I'll play Touya there and win!"

Hikaru went off into another heated fight with Kitajima, finally causing a today especially pretty Ichikawa to interfere. Due to the heat, she wore exceptionally sparse clothes, not significantly more than her apron. The quarrel of the two men ended surprisingly quick and she considered wearing that skirt more often, for the sake of her ears and those of the other customers.

Only Akira didn't really notice, because he kept looking at the board, seemingly considering only the game.

* * *

Waya was about to pack all his dirty clothes into a basket to take them down to the laundry - he had finally decided to do it himself – when the doorbell rang. 

He placed the basket back down on the floor and went to answer the door, wondering who it could be.

He was truly surprised when he saw Touya standing in the door. He had grown lately that he had become a bit taller than himself, Waya noticed with a slight hint of irritation. Plus, his now slightly longer hair, now even long enough that he could bind it together in his neck, so only a few strands escaped that framed his face, made him look strange for a pro, but definitely more manly than before.

"Hi, Touya," Waya greeted, "What do you want?"

Touya looked at him for a moment, too stunned to speak.

Waya frowned. "Study group's only in two hours."

"Oh." Touya managed to utter. Waya withdrew his opinion that Touya looked manly. In his shocked confusion he was rather childlike. His embarrassment added to this impression as he checked his watch and noticed what Waya said was true.

"I…I'm sorry, Waya," he stammered, and Waya almost felt pity at his confused state, "I'll go and come back later…"

He turned to go and to hide his rose-tinted cheeks.

"Oi, Touya," Waya halted him in his movement. Touya unsurely looked back at him. Waya sighed, "You can stay here until study group. Just make yourself comfortable and stay out of my way."

…

When Waya returned he found Touya sleeping, leaning against a wall, an exhausted, almost sorrowful expression on his face. Waya put his basket with washed and dried clothes on the floor and went over to check on the book that rested on his knees. It was one of his language textbooks again. Waya shook his head. He'd never understand why Touya would work until he slept in.

Waya decided to wake him only later, before the study group began, since Touya seemed to need the sleep.

…

Isumi arrived first to the study group. Waya opened the door for him.

"Hi, Isumi-san," he greeted and let him enter. Over his shoulder, he called, "Sorry Touya, I forgot to wake you." Waya's wasn't even bothering to hide his glee at Touya's situation. It probably wasn't accidentally he had forgotten to wake Touya.

"Touya came here too early," Waya explained, when Isumi's gaze wandered to the younger man, embarrassedly trying to blink the sleep away from his eyes, "and he slept in."

Isumi smiled and greeted Touya, who had visible problems waking up, but managed to greet back politely.

Soon they sat together around Waya's Goban and waited for the others to arrive. Saeki-san, the ash blond five Dan appeared next, in a inexplicable good mood, until Isumi noticed remains of lipstick on Saeki's lips and pointed it out to him, much to the exhilaration of Waya and himself. Touya only smiled politely, seemingly lost in his thoughts, maybe being still sleepy. The pair of Honda, the Freckled, and Ochi, the Four-Eyed Mushroom, as Isumi inwardly called them, came in next, both very silent and obviously not in happy mood. Isumi didn't wonder about their dampened spirits, since Waya had recently beat Ochi in a narrow, heated game, which threw Ochi out of the third prelims of the Tengen league. Isumi himself had beaten Honda on Wednesday in order to make his three Dan.

Shindou arrived finally, much too late, but at least breathing heavily and sweating from running.

"Congratulations for you both reaching the Honinbo league," Isumi felicitated Touya and Shindou.

"Thank you, Isumi-san," Touya politely answered.

"We're expecting one of you to reach the title," Waya added with a cheerful grin.

"That's why we're competing," Shindou answered cheekily.

Saeki laughed. "Morishita-sensei will surely insist that you beat Touya." The running joke of the 'rivalry' between the study groups had not been hid from Touya, who had accepted it with an amused smile.

"I surely will beat Touya!" Shindou said. Isumi certainly wished he had his confidence.

Touya showed his own confidence by ignoring Shindou. The rival was left quietly fuming in Touya's back when he addressed Waya with a serious expression.

"I expect you to have beaten Chao Shi when you return from China."

Isumi and Waya would leave next week for a two-month visit to Beijing. They had accepted the invitation of Isumi's friends at the Hokuto-Cup in late spring.

Waya seemed positively stunned by Touya's intensity.

"But…" Waya was unsettled, "Chao Shi played second board in this year's Hokuto-Cup!"

"So?" Touya asked and Isumi saw that his eyes were burning, but Waya didn't quite meet his glance.

Isumi heard an indignant huff from the side and quickly glanced over to Ochi, who had his eyes narrowed. He noticed Waya's gaze flickering in the same direction. When his gaze returned from Ochi, Waya's expression had changed to more determined.

"Chao Shi made huge progress in the last year," Touya agreed. Isumi had beaten Chao Shi when he had been to China two years ago, but his game at the Hokuto-Cup against Shindou had stricken fear in him. The sweet-looking boy had grown sharp teeth.

Waya appeared to be rather nervous, looking straight at the demanding Touya, but suddenly, from one breath to the other, it was as if a spark leapt from the Touya's dark, almost black eyes to Waya's brown ones, and Waya's whole stance completely changed. Isumi thought that something in his friend had caught the fire in Touya's look, he seemed to grow from inside, his gaze, and his whole facial expression became fiercer, his hands baled into energetic fists. A grim smile played around his mouth.

"Right! I'll beat him!"

Isumi, caught off guard by the raw emotion in Waya's voice, was immediately drawn into the feeling. Filled with a nervous anticipation, he almost felt the air crackling with the energy of the determined fighting spirit Touya, and now Waya too, emanated. He barely could suppress a chill and felt his eyes shining.

"My aim will be Yang-Hai-san!"

Touya's gaze focused on him.

"Hai," he confirmed Isumi's goal, "Yes."

The tense atmosphere dissolved as Shindou started to laugh.

"Stop that, Touya!" he chuckled, "You're freaking these guys out."

Touya cast him a frowning look. "You're just jealous when not everyone is focused on you."

While Shindou and Touya went off quarrelling, Isumi looked around, cherishing the positive feeling left from their few exchanged words.

Saeki bore a look of odd fascination.

Ochi quickly hid his expression of hateful jealousy, and passed an ambiguous glance with a frowning Honda-san, before he said, in his sour voice, "Can we play now? I don't have time all day."

"A good idea," Touya agreed, taking a break from insulting Shindou. "I have to go early today as well." Isumi wondered if Touya knew that the Mushroom thought even this comment disrespectful of him.

* * *

Akira accepted his defeat in the first game of the Honinbo league with a bow before Seiji Ogata, Judan, Gosei and Meijin (and still not Honinbo). He felt thoroughly depleted and managed to keep his mind in the spirit of the game, until the reporters and spectators finally decided they had enough. 

And again he had lost to Ogata. He half expected a snide comment of Ogata, like in their last game, in the Honinbo-league, too. It didn't come though. Probably this time Ogata thought having proven his greatness enough by winning and didn't need his vanity supported by mean comments.

He went to the toilet before he left the institute, but found himself suddenly cornered there by his light- haired opponent.

"That game was certainly not up to your standards, Akira-kun." Ogata gave him a reproachful look through his big eyeglasses. Akira knew the effect would have been better if he had taken them off, but Ogata was rather short-sighted and felt helpless without his glasses. _Maybe I should advise him to get new ones, when he all he wants is to look impressive._

"I'm sorry," Akira answered, looking away. He wasn't really happy with this game either.

There must have been something in his voice, he thought, because Ogata turned him around by the shoulder until he fully faced him. Akira suddenly noticed that he had grown almost as tall as Ogata by now.

Ogata's voice was a soft and considerate purr, "You won't last in the league with that Go."

Akira suddenly felt deeply uncomfortable.

"My next game is against Shindou. I'll beat him." He said, just for the sake of getting that worried frown off Ogata's face.

Ogata drew a bit back from him and his lips stretched into a wry half-smile.

"He has always been a miracle for your fighting spirit."

"But it doesn't matter anyway," Ogata added as an afterthought, his eyes narrowed dangerously at a non-present Kuwabara Honinbo, "It's me who'll win that title."

With a confused frown Akira looked at him. _Is he trying to comfort me, or to demoralise me further?_

_Maybe he can only be nice to me, when he's sure he beats me. _Ogata hadn't changed to the better.

The next days Akira tried to banish all thoughts from his mind except one. _I can't lose against Shindou._

* * *

The atmosphere of the Touya's Go salon was bubbling with anger and Ichikawa leaned at the counter, observing the two wranglers responsible for it. She earnestly considered getting some ear-plug; maybe she could even sell them to the other customers and add that to her salary. She sighed as she watched the two boys, no, the young men. Both had played three games in the Honinbo league, and they hadn't done as well as they had expected or wished for. 

"What kind of game is this! Not even in the Shin-Shodan series you lost that badly against Zama-sensei!"

"And who lost his third game, against Ogata-san, by a severe defeat!"

"He pulled a mean hand on me. I misread it! At least I won my first game!"

"But you lost against me!"

"Yeah, but that's the only real game you've played in this Honinbo league so far!"

"Shindou!" Kitajima cut in, "Stop insulting the young sensei or I'll personally kick you out!"

Hikaru started to lash back, but Akira interrupted them both in a low voice.

"Kitajima-san, please stop."

Surprised the older man looked away, mumbling something to his friend Hirose-san.

Stunned, Hikaru looked at Akira.

"Shindou," Akira said with an air of forced calmness on him, "I think it's not necessary to discuss our games today."

Considering how badly their conversation had already started, Hikaru could only agree.

* * *

"Damn, Touya, what the hell are you doing!" 

Hikaru heavily fell against the back of his seat, trying to glare at their game and at Touya at the same time.

Touya huffed. "What do you have to shout in the middle of a game?"

Hikaru stared at him. "You call that a game? That's a disaster!"

Touya had lost in the league against Kurata Tengen now, and his last Oteai game as well.

"So you think I should give up?"

Hikaru stared at him. "Ten hands ago. That game was disgraceful on your part."

Touya's eyes narrowed at him and his hands, lying on the table, tightened into fists.

"Will you please stop insulting me?" His voice was calm and icy, instead of his usual fiery retort. Hikaru should have started thinking by then, but he didn't.

"I won't. Unless you immediately start to play at least a hundred times better."

"Well then," Touya stood up, his dark eyes stormy, but his voice cold, "Get yourself someone else to take out your moroseness on. I certainly don't have the time for that."

Hikaru was for a moment too stunned to speak.

In the meantime Touya pushed his seat back and went to the counter, before Hikaru had even caught himself so far as to follow him with his gaze.

"Ichikawa-san," Touya said, his stance almost vibrating of suppressed anger, and as she didn't react immediately, "My bag please."

With dismayed wide eyes she mutely handed it to him.

When Hikaru finally caught himself and called out, "Touya!" he had already closed the door behind him, and only Kitajima's angry growl answered him.

When even he had stopped running out of the Go salon, it absolutely wasn't like Touya to now start with that habit! Hikaru still was too much in shock to be worried.

* * *

The ringing of the telephone called through the voices discussing games in the game room of the Chinese Go institute. A curly-haired, young Chinese pro went over and picked up the receiver. He looked confused for some time. Suddenly his face lit up and he called out. 

"Waya…telephone for you!"

Waya perked up from the game he was playing with a Chinese pro. He excused himself with a slight bow and went to the telephone, closely followed by Isumi who was as eager for news from home as he was.

"Hello?"

"Waya?"

"Yeah, that's my name."

"Touya's has gone crazy. Help me!"

"Huh?" Waya instinctively took a step back as if he could thereby escape the urgent demand. "Is that you, Shindou?"

"Of course! Help me!"

Isumi gave Waya a puzzled look. Shindou talked so loudly that he had heard him. Waya shrugged.

"What happened?"

Hikaru told him about Touya's strange behaviour.

"What's your problem?" Waya asked tiredly. "You're acting that strange all the time."

"Waya!" Even Isumi smiled at Shindou's indignant outburst.

"Listen, Shindou, he's maybe just stressed."

"Stressed? Why would he?"

"Why not?" Waya's brow furrowed.

"Well…" Shindou hesitated, "He's never stressed. He's Touya."

Waya exchanged a disbelieving look with Isumi.

"Shindou, are you stupid?"

* * *

A/N: I hope you liked that chapter. :-) Reviews are always much appreciated.  
I probably will post soon some kind of extra chapter from chapter one, where Waya and Touya celebrate their last evening in Europe and drink a bit, and talk. (that's where Touya came to know about Nase, e.g.) With a bit of help from one drink or the other, even Akira manages to open up a bit. :-) Just in case someone's interested.  



	8. Chapter 2, Part II

A/N: Since there was someconfusion about the extra chapter of Chapter 1: I posted it as an extra story, 'Nightly Conversations'.I'm sorry for the confusion, but I didn't want to put it in the story after Chapter 2 had already begun, because I thought that would be a bit confusing(and to put it between chap 1 and 2 would be even moreconfusing, I think at least...). so, whohasn't read it yet and isinterested in that extra Chapter, you know where to look. :-)

As always I want to thank my reviewers for their opinions and their kind and encouraging words. And I thank BlackWingedGabriel for betaing for me.

Enjoy the next part! **

* * *

Chapter 2. Part II**

"Doubt is the greatest enemy of a Go player." The words of his father echoed in his memory. As Akira hadn't answered, letting the statement drift off into silence, his father had continued, "But if you can overcome it, you'll be stronger than before." His father had a strong favour for vague remarks. Sometimes they didn't bother Akira, but there were times when they did.

His parents had been at home for some months until the day before yesterday. And somehow he was glad to be rid of his father's unhelpful advice and his mother's solicitous eyes.

He opened the door to his house, ready for a calm if lonely evening. He was so tired that he decided to go to bed immediately after having made himself some dinner. Or study some kifu before? Or maybe he would study for the Korean exam that was soon to come, even if he couldn't really mount any motivation. He even considered skipping the last classes, but that would seem like graceless cowardice. He would face them with the little pride that was left to him.

He tried to shake his thoughts off as he opened the door to the house. As soon as he stepped in the anteroom, he heard the clatter of Go stones on tatami mats.

"Kiki!" Rushing out of his shoes and into the house, he dropped his bag somewhere in between and tried to locate the source of the sound.

In his room, it took him several seconds to realise that his little kitty was speeding around the place like crazy because she chased a mouse.

"Kiki!" The cat halted for a part of a second and looked at him. So did the mouse. The mouse caught itself first and ran away. Kiki immediately turned back from Akira and jumped after the mouse, catching it back with her swift paws in only a few seconds. As she held it confined between her claws, she sent him an accusing look out of her yellow eyes. _You almost made me lose it._

She toyed some more with the mouse, then she bit it dead.

Akira finally got over his shock and made a step forward, but before he could even stretch his hand towards his kitty, she darted out of the room past him, the mouse held firmly in her mouth.

He looked at the messy lake of black Go stones on the floor of his room, as Kiki had pushed down a Goke in her pursuit. Beaten, he knelt down and collected the stones.

In the kitchen, he finally found his pet. She seemed back to normal and ran between him and her food bowl, meowing hungrily.

He frowned, but as his eyes passed a stack of cat food, he jolted.

_Did I really forget to feed her in the morning?_

He bent down to pick up the bowl, but let it almost fall in shock as the dead, half-eaten mouse looked at him.

Kiki meowed innocently.

"Please," he sighed, and flinched at the desperate sound of his own voice, "don't do that again." This was too much, on top of everything.

He fed his cat, but didn't eat himself. He had lost all appetite.

After a shower, in his nightclothes, he lay awake on his futon. He was tired, but couldn't sleep, not even a content Kiki purring beside his pillow could reassure him.

Sleepily he got up, and went to his father's room. He crouched down in front of the beautiful Goban, made of valuable, polished Kaya wood. It was dark in the room, and hot. He rested his chin onto his knees and closed his eyes for a moment. His dizziness must come from the temperature and his tiredness alike. And yet he couldn't let go of his thoughts.

_When was the last time I played a worthy game?_ The one he had won against Shindou in the Honinbo league. But before?

Maybe the Hokuto-Cup in May, where the three competing nations had played a draw. Japan had lost to Korea and won against China. With a sad smile Akira remembered his game against Ko Yong Ha. It had been great Go, on both sides and he had won. Against China's first board, a Chinese shooting star, a sixteen year old girl, he had lost, but Shindou had won against Chao Shi, and Yashiro, who had this year again been their team-mate, had won his game too. Against Korea, only Akira had won, while Shindou had collected a cold shower from Suyon Hong and Yashiro had lost too.

But now…

_I'm losing…_

_Badly_.

With a sigh he recognised that Shindou had been right to shout at him. It didn't make it any better, though. He couldn't have reacted otherwise. It didn't take Shindou much to get him angry. And their fighting, as much as he used to enjoy it, had taken a definite turn to grating his lately rather thin nerves.

At a small noise of paws on tatami he looked up and found two glowing orbs and a shadowy figure approaching. He noticed the digital display of the video recorder in the room across the corridor. He had been sitting, staring at the Goban, for hours.

Tomorrow would be a terrible day - again, after only three hours of sleep, if at all. But maybe then, tomorrow, he would be so tired, he would stop thinking and get some sleep.

Kiki purred, a low sound in the night-calm room, and comfortingly rubbed against his calves. He stroked her fur contrary to its natural direction and smiled as it stood up in all directions.

"Now you look like Waya," he told her. She only purred louder.

But Waya was in China. Isumi too. His parents were in Taiwan and with Shindou he was angry, or the other way round.

"Are you really the only one left to me now?" He whispered hoarsely to his cat, lying down on the floor where he sat and closing his eyes. The paws of his cat as she lay down on his chest and her whiskers tickling his cheeks were the last things he noticed before he fell asleep.

* * *

"Wayaaaaa…" Waya held the receiver as far away from his head as his arm was long as not to hear Shindou's wail as clearly. "Last time when I played Touya at his Go salon I asked him if he was stressed and he looked at me as if he was ready to kill me. I said that it would be okay for me too if we didn't play that much. All he said he wasn't stressed and he'd rather go on playing." 

Waya sighed. It had been going on for minutes already.

"You're just worried about Touya. Admit it," he harshly said, leaning against the wall beside the telephone.

"No, well, yes, no… hell, I don't know!"

Isumi scratched his head in a comic gesture imitating a confused Shindou and Waya had to stifle a laugh.

"Shindou…" he said, sliding his free hand into his pocket – probably wanting to look cool, even if he didn't know for whom, "Why don't you simply take care of Touya, while we're away? I'm not your nanny, you know."

"Take care of Touya?" The line was quiet for some moments. "Why?"

"Errrr." Waya was now speechless too, "Because evidently he's not well, maybe?" He sighed and rested his head against the wall. "You didn't listen to me last time at all, did you?"

"But Touya doesn't need anyone to take care of him," Shindou answered, "He made that pretty clear. I just don't want to win against him when I don't even deserve it."

Waya clenched his teeth and only didn't shout, because Isumi put a calming hand on his shoulder.

"What am I talking to you for?" he ground out, unable to conceal his angry frustration.

"Waya?" Shindou sounded suddenly uncertain.

"You're hopeless," he told Shindou.

"But…" Helpless.

"Go and figure it out for yourself! Use your brain or whatever it is you carry around with you in your head! It can't be possible that someone as talented in Go as you is unable to produce any other thought in your mind! And don't bother to call me again until you figured something out!"

Isumi pried the receiver out of Waya's clenched fist, before his friend destroyed the telephone of the Chinese Go institute by smashing it down on the apparatus too hard in his temper. He let the brown-haired one's hand go and gently put down the receiver.

"So…" Isumi started, after he had given the other the time for some calming breaths. "I didn't catch everything. Why were you shouting at Shindou again?"

"He's so stupid!" Waya shouted in exasperation, so loud that several people looked over.

"You never minded before," Isumi dryly told him. "What's the matter now?"

Isumi watched him pacing in the small place in front of the telephone for some time.

"I'm not Touya's nanny either!" Waya finally burst out.

Isumi crossed his arms in front of his chest and amusedly eyed the other man striding to and fro, his thick eyebrows drawn together so much they really made a line. His plastic slippers made snapping noises.

"I _told_ Touya the pressure would be too much!" Waya almost tore at his hair in frustration.

Isumi felt the corner's of his lips twitching as he watched the agitated state of his friend. "I see you're really worried about him, Waya-onisan," he said, half-earnest, half-teasing.

Waya abruptly stopped and now stared at him with that angry, accusing expression he had before directed at the non-present Touya. As if it were a huge lapse, "I can't help feeling responsible for him!"

* * *

All the way through his game, Hikaru's eyes kept being drawn to where Touya sat. He barely paid attention to what he played, and even though his opponent was a rather untalented sho-dan, Hikaru won by only half a moku. 

Touya had already left, when Hikaru noted his result. He couldn't hold back an apprehensive frown at the signs on the sheet.

_He lost again._

Something was really wrong with his rival. Probably Waya was right and he should try to help him? But with what…and how… and when? They wouldn't meet at the Go salon for … well, they hadn't decided a next meeting yet.

On his way out, he surprisingly saw a familiar figure with long, black hair, bound back, and a dark suit, despite the heat of an early September day, not far ahead of him.

Hesitantly he watched his silhouette for a moment. Then he shrugged. He had no clue what to say or to do, but anyway, he ran to catch up.

"Touya!"

The other pro looked at him haltingly. "Shindou?"

"Do you want to meet at the Go salon tomorrow?" Hikaru was a bit out of breath, but caught himself quickly.

Touya tried to smile, but failed. He nodded tiredly, "Okay. I'll be there at five."

Before they could part again, Hikaru asked. "Are you all right?"

"Only because I lost a game I shouldn't have lost?"

Hikaru shrugged, uncomfortable. "You're doing a great deal of losing, lately."

"I noticed."

Hikaru frowned. "Yeah, you would," the sarcasm was lost to him, "But what's wrong with you? You look tired."

Hikaru only later understood that it didn't always help being direct with Touya, because his rival continued his path to the metro station.

"I don't want to bother you with my problems."

Hikaru caught up with him, not understanding, "But I'm even _asking_ you to bother me!"

"I'll be in the Go salon tomorrow and on Saturday," Touya proposed in a neutral voice.

Hikaru confusedly looked at him, "Yeah." His Go partner's evasiveness left him too perplexed to pry further or even to answer more.

Touya must have misinterpreted his bemused look, because he said, "Don't worry, I won't stop playing."

Even in the heat of the day, Hikaru felt as if someone had just drained an entire river of ice-cold water over his head.

* * *

Akira would have kicked himself on the butt, had he been able to do so, so instead he kicked a can lying on the floor of the metro station. He hated himself for how he reacted to Shindou. His rival, with that naïve look on his face, had probably only meant well. White pain exploded his right foot. The can he had kicked wasn't really a can, but consisted of concrete and was fixed thoroughly to the floor. He yelped in surprise, hopping on one foot for a few seconds, forgetting how undignified he looked. 

Deep down he even welcomed the pain, saw it as a deserved punishment for behaving so coldly and hurtful towards Shindou. Even so he couldn't help that Shindou always made him irate and say stupid things.

And he hated himself for not being able to cope with his current situation. But he would fight, wouldn't give up. Somehow he would get back into form. He didn't need anyone else.

* * *

Hikaru couldn't really ask his rival why he suddenly played as if he'd forgotten how to, could he? Touya would probably just leave the Go salon again instead of answering. 

He placed another white stone.

What if Waya had been right? Hikaru wouldn't know. Apart from playing Go, Touya and he didn't know much about each other.

_Don't worry, I won't stop playing._ Even the memory of his _rival's_ words still left his insides freezing.

Another set of hands passed. The stones of his current game decorated the brownish board in an especially pretty black and white pattern, like a picture of modern art.

Slowly he became aware of how Touya had probably suffered when he had announced him he wasn't interested in Go anymore. How could his at this time not-yet rival have felt? Guessing from the urgency and shock in his voice when he had sought him out at the school, probably even worse than Hikaru felt now. But with which giant self-control Touya had managed to go on playing as if nothing had ever happened?

When his opponent, a middle-aged man with shortly chopped dark brown hair and a sharp nose, placed another black stone in his territory, it slowly dawned on Hikaru that it wouldn't do admiring pretty patterns if he wanted to make it to the Gosei league.

_Shit_! He wished for his fan to grip.

_I should have been concentrating better on the game,_ he realised with a sudden sense of dread.

With narrowed eyes he studied the game for many long minutes, his fists clenched. Out of an impulse he studied his opponent's face and couldn't help a derisive grin forming on his lips at the other man's expression. So confident of victory.

_You think you've won already?_ He thought, his eyebrows wandering up his forehead in a snorty gesture. He usually wasn't all that overbearing, but this guy and Touya and his current state of mind made him angry.

In the succession of moves that followed after another long thinking time of Hikaru, he had the pleasure to see his opponents round features turn from confident to unsure to pale, to deadly white, as he realised that the tables were turning on him.

_Don't worry, I won't stop playing._

Hikaru's opponent finally caught himself and resisted his strategy.

_Damn Touya, go out of my thoughts!_

But Touya kept losing. What could help Touya if not even his rival could incite him to do his best?

After surveying the game for ten more minutes, "I give up." He currently wasn't willing to go on fighting for the few petty points he probably would lose anyway. With pleasure he noticed that the shock at his former hands was still carved into his opponent's features. The other seemed greatly relieved at managing to win in the end, but Hikaru didn't point out that it surely wasn't due to his skill. And he surely didn't care about any after-game discussion. He said the obligatory 'Thank you', but immediately after that, without any further words, he stood up and left. Kosemura, the annoying reporter, tried to stop him and pin him with questions about his admittedly strange game, but, unimpressed, he simply sidestepped the small man to exit the room. He ignored the murmured remarks about his rudeness that followed. Why should he care? They didn't understand anything anyway. Few people knew that Touya was his rival, and even fewer knew how much he meant to him.

* * *

"Touya, do you really want to play another game?" Hikaru sighed. "You look tired."

"So what?" Touya retorted. "You look tired too."

"Because I _am. _But I look tired today, you since last month," Hikaru almost growled in frustration.

"It's really late already," Ichikawa-san cut in with her friendly, considerate voice. She had come to refill their cups. The three of them were the only ones left at the Go salon.

"You don't have to stay here with us, Ichikawa-san," Akira said, "I can lock the door when we leave."

"Oh, no, no," Ichikawa said indignantly, "Of course, I'll stay till the end! Besides, I love watching you two playing." She giggled, but before she returned to the counter, Hikaru caught her gaze for a moment, and there was much worry behind her carefree manner.

…

Before they parted on the way down the metro station, Hikaru held Akira back.

"Touya…"

He halted and tried to focus his sleepy eyes on that round face opposite him.

"What do you want?"

"Your parents aren't at home, neh? You could sleep over at my house, if you want to," Hikaru proposed. Probably not asking as directly would work better?

"Why would I want that?" Touya's voice was so cold and abrasive that Hikaru winced. He gritted his teeth and said, after a moment of heavy silence, "Oh, sorry for asking," his sarcasm didn't hide his anger at his rival's words. Hikaru would have preferred Touya shouting at him. With that, at least, he knew how to deal.

Akira turned away from the anger and the hurt on his rival's face. His quick retreat felt like a flight. Wasn't that what he longed for most at the moment? A friend? But only resentment remained. He couldn't bear other people's worry. And accept help, was admitting helplessness.

He had to be strong!

* * *

Hikaru looked after him, his eyes narrowed, a pained expression on his face. If it weren't for the games, he would think Touya hated him.

* * *

A/N: As always. :-) Reviews of any kind and opinion are welcome. :-) 


	9. Chapter 2, Part III

A/N: There you go, next chapter is up. :-) Rather early after the last, but I'm going on skiing holiday tomorrow, so I thought today would be a good day to post, ne:-)  
Thanks to my reviewers... at _spinx: _Danke für deine Reviews! Ich hab mich echt gefreut mal einen Review auf Deutsch zu bekommen. :-) Ist schon irgendwie witzig... einen deutschen Review auf ein englisches Fanfic zu bekommen. Und es freut mich, dass es dir gefällt. Ich hoffe,du wirst die Geschichte auch weiterhin mögen (und reviewen ;-) )  
And thanks to BlackWingedGabriel for betaing!

Enjoy reading.

* * *

**Chapter 2. Part III**

It was quiet in the Go salon, save the low buzz of the air-conditioner and the occasional chafing and klicking of the stones. Even Ichikawa had gone home already, leaving the two young men alone. Most of the lights were switched off; only where they played there were some lamps still on, casting the room in a gentle half-darkness that in the corners grew to a dense black obscureness.

"Let's stop," the half-bleached juvenile proposed somewhere in the middle of their game, "I won anyway."

Akira stared at the board for a moment. He was so tired that he couldn't even tell if he had really lost. The patterns of black and white stones blurred before his eyes and eluded his interpretation. He sometimes wondered why Shindou still bothered playing with him – and without shouting his ears deaf.

They resolved the game and put the stones back into their bowls. As Akira pushed the stones over the lines, his hands begin to quiver lightly. Suddenly he marvelled at the beauty of the simple forms: lines, squares, points, circles.

Some of the smooth stones slid out of his hands and fell to the floor. He bent down and picked them up.

As he straightened up and put the fallen stones into their bowl, he saw Shindou looking at him with a featherbrained expression on his face. Akira knew this look. He sighed, "What do you want to say?"

"Hm…," he answered, "Let's go eat something, ok?"

Akira sat still for a moment. "I'm not hungry."

"Touya," Shindou stared at him almost angrily, "I want to talk to you."

"Then talk to me here."

"Hey!" his rival protested, "Even if you're not hungry, _I_ am!"

"Fine, then let's go," Akira answered. "I'm tired. I want to get home."

* * *

"So, what do you want to talk about?" 

"Aren't you eating?" Hikaru pointed at the bowl of Ramen in front of his rival.

"I told you I'm not hungry." Hikaru had ordered for him anyway.

"Eat! You are too thin."

"The smell makes me sick."

And really, the black haired man seemed to grow paler within seconds. When he closed his eyes and drew in a sharp breath, Hikaru knew something wasn't right.

He gripped the other's bony shoulder tightly, and shook him.

"Touya!"

Eyes fluttered open, and he looked as if he needed some time to reorient himself in his situation. When his gaze met Hikaru's he instantly looked away.

"I'm sorry. I got dizzy."

"Are you sick?" Hikaru stretched to put his hand on his companion's pale forehead in his pale face. Touya slapped his hand away.

"Are you my mother now?" Anger narrowed his eyes.

"I want to know what's wrong with you - playing like a damp washrag! You fell out of pretty much every tournament in the last few weeks."

Touya didn't react, but looked down at the steaming soup as if he suddenly wondered what it was, and if it might bite him if he didn't pay attention.

"When was the last time you ate?" Hikaru asked, out of impulse.

He thought Touya wouldn't even bother to acknowledge his second question as well, much less answer it, but he was surprised when he looked up, blinking several times, as if it would help him remember.

"I… I don't know." He said, sounding earnestly confused.

"You don't know!" Hikaru's eyebrows rose.

Touya looked at him in more confusion. "What does it matter?"

"The way you look, act and play it could be days ago!"

The black haired pro shrugged, evidently neither sharing, nor even understanding, his horror. "Probably."

"How…" Hikaru's eyes were wide in awe, "How did you do that? Not eating?"

He remained silent for several moments, trying to digest the idea that someone could really consider _not_ eating three meals a day, not even one, perhaps not even one in _days_.

"I wasn't hungry."

Hikaru was stunned.

"Was that all you wanted to ask me?" Touya asked, becoming impatient. "Then I'm going."

* * *

"Hey, Touya," Hikaru shouted as he ran after him, out of the Ramen shop, "Wait!" 

"Leave me alone!" He stopped and stared at him. The weak light of a street light set his eyes aglitter in the dark. "I've eaten, as you told me to, and now I feel better, you were right. So now leave me!"

"I'm not leaving until you tell me what's wrong with you!" Hikaru took a threatening step near his rival whose hair had escaped the hair tie and formed dark halo around his face.

"There's nothing wrong with me."

Touya turned to go on with his way, but he caught him by his thin upper arm, and made him stop.

"You're a poor liar," Hikaru was getting angry.

"So?" the other pro violently tore his arm out of his grip, turned, and started walking again.

"Touya!" Hikaru ran again to catch up with his rival, who only halted when he threw his body in his way. Akira tried to sidestep him, but stumbled and stopped.

"Please listen to me! I want to help you!"

A car passing by illuminated Touya's pale, aristocratic face for a few seconds. He wore an impassive mask, but Hikaru saw them in his eyes, the emotions he so desperately tried to hide.

"What kind of rival would I be, if I didn't help you!" he ground out, locking dark, sharp eyes with his, "If I let your Go and you founder without even _trying_ to do something?"

Touya stared back at him in silence, but didn't try to move on anymore.

Hikaru waited for some kind of answer, or even an acknowledgement that Touya had absorbed his words, because the dark eyes continued gazing without the owner saying anything. Hikaru wanted to shake him, but didn't dare for fear of his rival leaving again. Not today.

The soft air, it was the end of summer, caressed their bodies. Hikaru tried to take deep breaths of the warm air that was like balm on his skin. It was so late that few other people disturbed their privacy.

He tried to calm down, even managed; only his heart remained beating too fast.

"You can't leave me alone like that," he quietly told his rival, "I won't let you."

In response Touya staggered a step back, probably only in surprise, but nevertheless Hikaru put a hand on his thin shoulder to keep him from leaving. He knew now he had his full attention. A whisper of a wind caressed his face and made the hairs on his back stand up.

He waited for the breeze to pass into the night and into all the little noises a city always made.

"Touya," he gathered all his courage, "Akira…" He felt the body under his hand tensing, but he continued, subdued, "I _know_ how difficult it is to let someone help you," hoarsely, "especially when you need it."

Touya's eyes widened for a moment, before he turned his head away, so Hikaru could only see a black, shimmering wall of hair, almost one with the night around them. Hikaru let his hand fall of the other's shoulder, respecting his need for this bit of privacy.

Several cars passed by.

"Who did you tell?" Akira's voice was soft and weak.

"Nobody, yet," he quietly admitted, not really surprised by the question. "But someday… you'll be the one know." He couldn't offer more than a promise.

Akira sighed, unable to hide his bitterness, "I didn't expect you'd tell me." He almost bit his tongue in chagrin. He had vowed to himself never to mention it again until Shindou entrusted it to him out of his own incentive.

Hikaru's voice sounded regretful. He hadn't considered that it might affect Touya, but, "Now isn't the appropriate moment."

Akira was silent for some minutes. He still didn't look at Hikaru, who only waited for his rival's next move with a patience he had learned on the Goban.

"Shindou…"

"Yeah?"

"Can you answer me one question?"

"Sure."

"'Doubt is the worst enemy of a Go player' father told me. But is it really _enough_ playing Go?"

"What do you mean?"

"To be a whole person having only Go."

"Touya…?"

"Our world is Go, but… shouldn't there be… _more_ to life?"

"Touya! What do you mean?"

"Shindou, please answer me."

Hikaru frowned, trying to keep despair at bay at how far Touya's moral had suffered to even think of such questions. How much _Touya_ had suffered.

"All you are is the Go you play, and that's enough," he repeated Touya's own words, that had meant so much to him in their long ago first game. He still cherished them, and the soaring elation when Touya had finally accepted him as his rival. "You said that yourself."

"Please answer my question."

"But I… I don't understand. What answer shall I give you? How can you even think about that?"

"Answer my question."

"But Touya…"

"_Please._"

Hikaru winced from the urgency in his voice. Touya had taken to look at him again, with his so very own determined look, his eyes burning. It tore Hikaru apart to see his rival so desperate over something he didn't really understand. Something he didn't _want_ to understand. Go was what they wanted, wasn't it? He had counted on Touya as the one and real security in this world that from the beginning on had been so strange to him. But now the fundament of his believes was crumbling and his whole house was swaying, threatening to fall down on him.

He took a step back, away from Touya.

His voice was low and husky, betraying his own desperation at seeing his rival like this.

"Without you, Go would be just a game to me."

He swallowed to ease the dryness in his mouth. Then he took another step, turned away, he had already said too much. "I'm sorry, but that's all I can answer you."

He went on to the metro station, hearing his steps slow and heavy on the pavement stones.

He looked up at the sky, a tear in his eye.

_Sai,_ _I'm sorry, to you too… but… that's my truth. _

"Shindou, wait!" Touya's voice was so weak that Hikaru almost missed it. He stopped.

What does he want from me? Crumble the rest of my fundament?

"Please." Touya's voice was almost a whisper. Hikaru turned.

His rival was standing not far from him, only a bit more than an arms length away. He had probably followed him some steps. Touya met his gaze levelly without the fear or regret, even without the desperate defence he had displayed lately. Standing directly under a street lamp, Hikaru recognised that the expression on his face was more open that he'd ever seen, more vulnerable.

_I couldn't bear to say the wrong thing now... _His uncanny knack to say the worst thing at the worst time had his ghostly mentor chide him often… and in the end… _This time I'll listen! _But what if... ?

Touya rescued him from his uneasiness.

"I realised…" his voice was gentle and easeful, and for the first time in weeks Hikaru saw a small smile curving his lips, "that more than a rival, I need a friend right now."

* * *

A/N: If you liked it, please review. :-) 


	10. Chapter 2, Part IV

A/N: Today comes the fourth and last part of Chapter 2.Some things about Akira will come clearer in this chapter, at least I hope so. I mean, there are lots of reasons for his behaviour, beginning with the fact that being 16/17 never is an easy age,the talk with Waya in that extra chapter about the price onehas to pay for the mastery of the game at such a young age sowed first doubts, his stress adding... but still there is someting that's the last straw... but then, he finally manages to trust in Hikaru (the poor Hikaru tried so hard:-) ).

Thanks to BlackWingedGabriel for betaing again!

Enjoy reading!

**

* * *

****Chapter 2. Part IV**

"Waya!"

"Shindou? Is that you again?" Waya and Isumi exchanged a gaze. What was wrong now? "Didn't I tell you to not call - unless…?"

"I'm not dumb!" Shindou burst out, "I did figure something out!"

"Oh," now Waya truly was surprised. "So?"

"You won't believe it…"

"I won't?"

"About the stress part you were right…"

* * *

Hikaru and Akira strolled through the nightly city along one of the main roads at leisurely pace. Having picked up some coffee at a small twenty-four hour shop along the way, they drank it only for the sake of the caffeine, because not even vast amounts of sugar and milk could rectify the disgusting taste. They strode along each other in silence and Hikaru patiently waited for the very quiet Touya to talk. When they discarded their empty coffee paper-cups, the black-haired pro pushed his hands into the pockets of his pants. The night still was so warm that it didn't matter to him that he only wore a short-sleeved chemise. 

They reached a traffic light and Akira decided this was a bad point to start talking. He felt uncomfortable only thinking of speaking. Should he really tell Shindou? What use was it? Would it make any difference? Didn't it hurt enough just so?

_Pah..._ with a shake of head he tried to chase the doubts away. As in the movement his hair suddenly flew in his face, he noticed that at some point he must have lost his hair tie. Taking his hands out of his pockets he brushed it back, tucking it behind his ears. It was ridiculous. He had already decided to tell Shindou and he never went back on his decisions. There was no use in hesitating.

They had crossed the street and now strolled on.

"To make it short," Akira started and sensed his companion tensing attentively, "I don't like to admit it, but I've been in some sort of stress for…," he hesitated, trying to remember, "about one and a half years. Since I started that Korean and Chinese and English language classes additionally to playing Go."

_So Waya was right_, Hikaru thought, a bit surprised, "I didn't know you were doing that much crazy stuff!" he said, then suddenly added, "Ah… now I remember. You _were_ talking Chinese and Korean at the Hokuto-Cup! …Ha-ha," embarrassedly laughing he scratched his neck with one hand, "I guess you had to learn that at some point."

Akira resisted the temptation to roll his eyes and as calmly as possible continued, "I did. And I managed to juggle that quite well with my obligations of being a Go pro. Right now, I can't really remember _how_ I did it," he said with a dismayed frown, "only that when… when my girlfriend dumped me, I suddenly couldn't cope with anything anymore. Everything just…"

"Wait…" Hikaru interrupted, "What!"

He stumbled. Akira steadied him with one hand. At his questioning gaze, Hikaru pointed at a place on the dark pavement. "There was a hole in the asphalt."

Akira tried to pierce the darkness with his gaze, but didn't see anything.

Hikaru sighed. "I stumbled over my own feet. I was surprised – a lot!"

"Why?"

"Because your _girlfriend_ dumped you!"

Akira had problems to suppress the urge to twitch uncomfortably. He wished he had never started talking, but now there was no way out anymore. "So?" he tried to sound nonchalant, "Girlfriends usually do that when you're not good enough for them."

"That's beside the point," Hikaru exclaimed with a kind of awed shock Akira had troubles to comprehend, "Not even _Isumi-san_ has or had a girlfriend."

By the spicy smell in the air it was evident that their path led them by a park. The trees and bushes formed a grey-black wall beside them.

"Saeki-san has a girlfriend," Akira pointed out, hoping to get the topic away from him.

"Yeah… but he's much older than we are! And he doesn't _hide_ it."

"…" Akira tried to decide on answering the lesser discomfort, "She was almost two years older than me."

Hikaru stumbled again. "What?"

Akira steadied him with his hand. "It didn't hold any longer than five months anyway," he said, and then quickly added, "What about you? Do you have a …girlfriend?" Through the hand on his rival's shoulder he felt his chest rocking, just before he heard a slight chuckle. "Are you kidding? When I need all my time and energy catching up to you!"

"Huh?"

"Ha, well," Hikaru chuckled again, a bit deeper, and with a wistful undertone, "At least I did until you started forgetting how to play…"

Akira flinched. _Even if I thought the same, hearing it said... is worse. _He fought to keep breathing even, but felt heat rise into his face._ If I just could run away now…_

He didn't answer to Shindou's comment.

The uncomfortable silence between them stretched longer. They continued their way into the park. Even though it was badly lit, they could still clearly see the way. The air was better here, and not as hot as it had been on the streets.

"So…" Hikaru said finally, in his voice controlled resentment. "It was really she, that _girlfriend_, who put these strange ideas into your head?"

"She didn't like Go."

"Bad luck for her."

"She didn't understand when I had to play a game, or had to prepare for one, and no time for her…"

"Why didn't you explain it to her!"

"I tried," Akira sighed, hoping his pain wasn't too obvious in his voice, "All she said was Go was annoying and boring. She'd rather do Karaoke, or such stuff, so we did that."

Hikaru's voice was sarcastic as he asked, "And then you decided to think too Go was annoying and boring?"

"No!" Akira vehemently gainsaid. "Go's my life! But…" he halted.

They reached a small pond, like a pool of black ink lying languidly in the weak light.

"But…?"

_Argh…_ Akira thought. _Do I really have to do this?_ He swallowed the lump in his throat. _Let's see it through till the end._

"When she …ended it," he uncomfortably cleared his coated voice, "she rather frankly said that even though I was really nice and she liked me a lot, being obsessed with a board game, I was too boring by her 'standards'." He frowned in pain, "She said it in a lot more uncomfortable words which I don't care to repeat."

Hikaru had been about to pluck a leaf from a bush they passed, but stopped his hand in midair. He took it back to his body as he turned to scowl at his rival.

"She's stupid," he didn't bother to hide his distaste.

"No!" Akira exclaimed, "She…she was…"

He fell silent, a lost, lonely look meeting Hikaru's gaze.

His half-blonde companion stared at him for a few moments, understanding and compassion dawning. "She meant a lot too you, didn't she?" He quietly asked.

"Yes…" Akira's voice was barely more than a whisper. Growing uncomfortable under the other's gaze, he looked at the pond. He blinked away some tears, before they could escape his eyes. He wished Hikaru would say something, and at the same he time he wished he wouldn't.

He didn't want to admit how anxious he was for his rival's reaction.

But after some time the rival only inquired, "Who else knows about her?"

"No one. Her friends."

"Why didn't you tell anybody?" Hikaru sounded really clueless, "A girlfriend is rather someone to brag about not to be ashamed of - or why ever you didn't tell."

After a short pause he decided to admit the truth. "I didn't want my father to know." Said openly, the reason sounded strange.

"Ha-ha…" chuckling, "I can understand that. I always liked keeping things from my parents too… my mother didn't even know that the pro exam existed until I was half-through with the prelims."

Even though Akira didn't really think that Shindou understood his reasons, his rival's laughter made him breathe more freely, as if he had just put down a heavy bag. Talking suddenly became easier.

"After how I played the last few weeks, I even less want my father to know," Akira shook his head and quietly said, "I think I could have handled a simple defeat, but what she said…" he pressed his lips together, "hurt. Made me lose my balance entirely. I'm not proud of it."

"I told you she was stupid. You should have asked me before!" Suddenly more sensitive, he added, "But then it's always hard to be spurned by someone you admire."

Only when Touya stared at him in shock, "You mean…?" Hikaru realised how his words had been interpreted. He certainly hadn't thought of the incident after the internet-Sai episode, at least not consciously so, and he laughed. "Now that you mention it… You'll _never_ again look at me that way! That's a promise I made to myself long ago."

Akira snorted gently at the rebuke, but smiled.

They stood at a point where they could overlook the little pond. The water murmured gently against the shore and sometimes it giggled lowly when a fish's fin touched the surface. The trees whispered in an almost intangible wind and the city outside of the park sleepily purred in the background.

"Could you really love someone who would make you stop Go, if she could?"

Some leaves let go of their branches and slowly swivelled downwards, glimmering silvery until they landed softly on the inky water.

Akira looked at his rival, standing beside him.

And his friend.

"No…" It was a sigh of relief.

* * *

He awoke. It was still dark, so he couldn't have slept more than an hour. Eyes half-closed he looked around his room, wondering what had made him wake up. Suddenly he noticed that Touya, on a futon on the floor beside his bed, was awake too. His eyes were open and aglitter, and his arms folded behind his neck, he stared at the ceiling. 

"Touya…?" Hikaru murmured and sat up in his bed. "Why don't you sleep?" He slid his feet from his mattress that they dangled from his bed. It was too warm to use a blanket.

"I don't sleep well… lately," his friend, clad in a borrowed nightshirt, admitted. His voice was low and raspy. "My thoughts keep jumbling and tumbling without peace."

"Touya…" Hikaru was shocked, yet pleased to see his rival vulnerable and totally without defence. It probably wouldn't happen often. With a sleepy smile he climbed from his bed and sat down beside Akira who made place for him. He lay down on his side, his head propped up on his hand. He knew what it felt like to lie awake in the night, unable to think of anything else than the pain seemingly forever attached to your heart. He would have given much for someone to comfort him.

He watched Touya's profile, mostly dark, except for some highlights from the sparse light from outside.

"I wouldn't have thought you were that fragile behind your professional façade," Hikaru suddenly said.

"I wish I weren't," Akira whispered.

Hikaru snorted lowly, "You think I wouldn't too?" The alarm clock on Hikaru's nightstand bleeped a full hour. It was five o'clock. "Sooo," Hikaru stretched the syllable expectantly, "We're awake anyway so let's play a game. I'm black, 4-4, hoshi."

Akira didn't answer for some time, so Hikaru asked, "You've not slept in now, have you?"

Akira suddenly started to chuckle freely. "No, I'm not sleeping." He too rolled onto his side, so he faced Hikaru, his hair tousled funnily, "Today was the last game you ever won against me, I promise! 16-16, hoshi!"

"Ha-ha… You dreaming with your eyes open now! 17-4."

"You know that I'm better at blind-Go than you. 4-16, I'll crush you."

"You dream!"

"Just wait and see."

…

* * *

When Waya and Isumi came back from China, both victorious in the games they had promised Akira Touya to win, the study group that had been postponed during their absence, started again. 

When Akira entered Waya's apartment, he should have immediately caught on the situation, judging by Shindou's gaze that instantly went back to intensely studying the kifu in his hand, and the wide, mischievous smirk appearing on Waya's face.

"Hello," he said and sat his bag down beside the door.

"Hi, Touya," Waya greeted, propping his hands behind him so he could lean back and get a better view of the just arrived. His eyes were aglitter. "So tell us, who was she? What did she look like? I imagine pretty good, ne?"

For some moments, Akira truly was bewildered. Waya later told him that the look on his face had been priceless.

Akira shook his shock off. "Shindou!"

Hikaru wreathed under Akira's deadly glare, "Eh? Yes?"

"Leave him, Touya," Waya said, his smirk only growing broader, "It's not like he had any choice."

"So, how was she? Did she kiss well?" Saeki asked, grinning.

"Er…"

"Did she have big …" Waya made an unmistakable gesture at his chest.

Isumi, blushing slightly, tried to rescue Akira – Akira made a mental note to thank him for that later, "What was her name?"

"Where did you get to know her?" Isumi quickly dug deeper, because he noticed Waya opening his mouth. Waya clapped it shut and shot Isumi a poisonous glare.

Akira almost winced as the bombardment of questions never seemed to cease. When he really had to answer he kept his words vague, sensing they only wanted to tease him. It didn't bother him as much he would have expected. It _was_ greatly embarrassing and 'uncomfortable' would be an understatement of his situation. He even fleetingly thought if he shouldn't simply kill Shindou. But then, once gotten used to the rather crude humour of his fellow young men…

It was Waya who asked, and Akira promised himself to crush his friend mercilessly in their next game, when the room had been silent for some seconds, "Touya, did you do …_it_… with her?"

Akira almost forgot to breathe, but immediately felt heat rising from his neck up into his face. "Waya…" he growled lowly, trying to paper over his considerable embarrassment over such a personal question, "by just how many moku do you intend to lose in our next game?" His thought his ears and cheeks must have been a glowing red, and he wouldn't have been surprised to discover that Shindou sitting beside him had to feel the rise in temperature too.

"Ouw… Touya, don't be mean," Waya groaned, and everyone started to laugh. "Come on, tell us!"

Before he tipped his head down, in a vain attempt to hide his tomato-face, he saw Waya staring at him with an evil-yet-good-natured grin, Saeki looked friendly curious, Honda indifferent, Ochi really disgusted, but Isumi – thanks to God of Go for at least _one_ decent person in the room – looked almost as embarrassed as he felt.

Into the expectant silence Akira mumbled, his eyes still on the floor, "I _refuse _to answer that question."

Saeki laughed freely. "Caught!" The other's quickly joined. If possible Akira's face grew even redder, but he managed a faint smile nevertheless.

"Pah," Ochi emitted a derisive snort, "Who would want to know that anyway?"

A steep crease appeared on Waya's forehead, but Saeki was faster, teasing Ochi, "What little shrimp? Jealous?"

"You wish."

"Now that I think of it," Saeki continued, grinning, "What about you, Shindou? You're Touya's rival after all."

"What? Me?" Hikaru twisted in surprise at being spoken to. _And I managed so well being invisible until now. _

"Yeah, you," Waya reinforced Saeki's statement, "What about your love interests?"

"You can't let Touya get that far ahead of you…" Isumi smiled.

"Who said I had to be his rival at _everything_!" Hikaru exclaimed to his defence, while Saeki laughed, "Ha-ha… Isumi, sweep before your own door first!"

Now that the conversation had moved away from him, Akira could quite enjoy it. He was glad that his decision had been right; even if Ashiwara and Ogata had been disappointed when he had announced them that he was quitting their study group.

_Doubt is the greatest enemy of a Go player_… He would advance step by step, gaining independence from his father's overwhelming influence, forward into his own life, with his own friends, _But if you've overcome it, you'll be stronger than before._

"Waya, let's play a game!" he said.

Waya flinched. "Err… do I really have to…?"

"_Revenge is sweet…" _Isumi muttered under his breath.

Akira smiled sweetly. "Yes."

"Hey, and what about me?" Shindou complained. Ochi only looked more disgusted at how Touya immediately answered.

"Do you so desperately want to make up for your loss at blind Go last week?"

"It was five in the morning, no wonder I couldn't remember that stupid move of yours!"

"My move was brilliant, and the time was the same for me!"

While they bickered away, Waya unobtrusively nudged Isumi in the side. "Hey," he muttered and leaned closer, "play with me before Touya remembers me… I don't think I've trained up enough to face him when he's furious with me…"

"O – Okay…" Isumi stammered, never before having seen Waya squirming out of a game. But he knew how greatly Waya admired Touya as player and he did, too. It was the determined battle-look in the younger man's dark eyes that had spurred them into ever better performances on their visit to China.

"No way…" Saeki chipped in. He put an arm comradely around Isumi's shoulders, "Isumi plays with me!" Into his ear he whispered gleefully, "I want to see that game! Play along and I might consider introducing you to a hot chick I just got to know recently…"

Waya realised that there was no way out. For a few moments he nervously eyed the still quarrelling Touya. Then he gathered himself and the look in his eyes became fierce as he punched Touya in the shoulder to get his attention.

"Hey, you were wanting to play me, so stop fighting with Shindou and play!"

"Ah, yes, yes…" Touya turned to the Goban and accepted the bowl of stones Honda quietly handed to him. "Sorry!"

"I haven't been sitting in China with my arms crossed, I'll show you!" Threateningly he pushed a handful of white stones onto the board to nigiri.

Akira narrowed his eyes. "I hope so."

* * *

End of Chapter 2

* * *

A/N: Reviews are most welcome 

Some notes on this chapter: I had the basic idea for this chapter last year in late June - really a long time ago. :-) I wrote some kind of one-shot in German, which never turned out good enough to be posted. But letting the idea and my perception of the characters ripen, it finally came to point onappearing in this story! I'm so glad, it's like a dream finally fulfilled:-)  
Hm, yeah, I don't know how you feel about Akira having had a girlfriend. I really think it' possible and probable (or I wouldn't have written it...:-)). I really don't put it past him. I know that in most fics he's portrayed rather socially 'retarded' and in some ways I agree, but I think people are exaggerating - a lot. And I don't agree with that. :-)  
For the time-line: He got to know her shortly after he came back from Europe, in his Korean class (you probably guessed, but it's not very clear in the story nor is it very important (there is a little hint in part two, at the beginning...)), and he got dumped pretty much at the beginning of part one of the second chapter, when Hikaru says, Akira's playing 'strange'...  
Well... that's it for now. If you have any question, just ask, or comments, they are appreciated.  
And I hope you liked it all:-)  
Thank you for reading!


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